<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>The Pianist by YoumiXxX</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24959350">The Pianist</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/YoumiXxX/pseuds/YoumiXxX'>YoumiXxX</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Legend of Zelda: Four Swords</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Golden 20's Setting, Angst, Bands, Bars and Pubs, Blood and Injury, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Violence, Jazz/Swing, M/M, Mild Language, Please don't do drugs kids, Romance, Slice of Life, Smoking, Snogging in an alleyway</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 10:09:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>22,065</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24959350</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/YoumiXxX/pseuds/YoumiXxX</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Green has established a solid life as a bartender in Cremia's "Little Meadow" after leaving his old home to see the big cities. Life is easy and lightsome until, eventually, a handsome pianist catches his attention and he realizes that he is still missing out on a few things.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Blue Link/Green Link</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Johnny-raw</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>After a bit of thinking back and forth, I finally decided to tackle my first multi-chapter fic here on AO3! Things are still a little rough at the moment and I'm not fully sure if I can manage to maintain a regular uploading schedule, but I'll try my best to stay consistent! :) Thanks to <i>The_Aggresstable</i> aka <i>Atinybitweird</i> for providing the idea for this fic and the helpful input! We've been doing a lot of work on this topic and related lately with fanart, fanfic and roleplays and a lot of cool things came around, which will hopefully  show in this fic as well. Enjoy! :D</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <i>Alright, just one final check before the shift starts.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>Two cerulean, likable eyes looked back at him, a slight frown gracing his brows as he observed himself closely in the mirror of the staff room. He noticed a few wrinkles on his vest and pants, so he reached up and smoothed them out with his hands as good as possible. His light-green cotton shirt felt soft and clean against his skin, his flat hat securely fixed over his curly, blonde locks. A single, annoying strand peeked out just above his forehead, awkwardly winding around the rim of his cap and pointing towards the ceiling but he was used to that by now. There was no point in trying to fix it as stubborn as his hair often proved to be. Green straightened up to his full height, flashing himself a warm, welcoming smile, the same kind of smile he would give his guests later, and felt positively encouraged. Yes, his confidence was on just the right spot. Today would be a good day, or at least that was what his feeling was trying to convince him into believing. Nevertheless, with his newfound spirits, nothing could ruin his allover up-swinging mood.</p><p> </p><p>Releasing a content sigh, Green retreated from his reflection and left the staff room, cheerfully hopping along to the tune of the band rehearsing in the saloon while making his way back to the bar. The melody was foreign to his ears, very vivid and rousing compared to the rather somber songs most bands had been playing lately. It pulled him along almost immediately, infusing his feet with moving urges and making him tap along to the rhythm unintentionally. A new band in town? Most likely. Surely the pub would be flowing over from dancing people tonight. Such catchy tunes, nobody would want to miss out on a chance to shake a leg to them. </p><p> </p><p>Reaching the main room, Green stopped halfway into the door, woody and waxy odors along the slight traces of alcohol vapors gently hugging his nostrils and he let his gaze wander to the stage to the left to take a closer look at the musicians that would entertain the coming guest tonight. A rather small band this time, just five people. Four of them formed the backing with a saxophonist, a trumpeter, a bassist, and a pianist. The beautiful lady in the front with her iconic blue pixie cut sang the vocals. She wasn’t such an unfamiliar face. In fact, she was the famous Nayru. They said her voice was a delight to listen to, unlike any other female vocalist out there these days, very elegant and mature. Judging by the small sample that was currently playing, the assertions proved to be true. She sang really well, her presence astonishing like performing on stage was as simple as breathing to her. The way she moved, the way she smiled while singing, a glowing star shining its brightest as soon as the first sound emitted from her tongue – she was born for this. Green understood why people spoke so fondly of her and why she was loved by everyone. </p><p> </p><p>
  <i>Must have been pretty expensive hiring her. I wonder what kind of fee she normally gets…</i>
</p><p> </p><p>Having seen his fill, for now, Green pushed himself off the doorframe and proceeded on to the bar, a slight bounce creeping into his gait with the infectious music drumming against his ears. Cremia, the bar owner, watched him, smirking, as he got closer, polishing the glasses. She always had such a funky way of dressing, <i>proper business attire</i> as she liked to call it. Still, her fiery redhead was spot on again despite the length. A rather weird sight, considering that most women cut them down as short as possible nowadays. </p><p> </p><p>“I see you’re already enjoying the musical interlude,” Cremia mused, handing Green another clean cloth to help her polish. Green took it gladly, shrugging nonchalantly while taking his spot next to the chipper lady.</p><p> </p><p>“What? Are you telling me you don’t like it?” he replied in disbelief. “It’s the best band we had in a long time!”</p><p> </p><p>“I agree,” came a curt, shy giggle in return, her long skirt brushing his shins as she turned and restocked the glass cabinets. “It’s really hard finding good bands around here. The last one was terrible! I swear, if that phony, who recommended them to me, shows up again, I’ll send him packing!”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll gladly kick his butt for the acoustic abuse if you want me to. Not even the booze made that shit bearable.” </p><p> </p><p>They exchanged a burst of quick, hearty laughter while Cremia returned to the counter, rolling her eyes in empathy. “Please, I insist!” Reaching down, she opened a small drawer under the sink, taking a pair of keys from it. “I’ll go check on the beer kegs. I promised the musicians free drinks, so could you get a bottle of good wine and some water from the back and bring it to their room? I asked my sister to make some snacks, too. She should be bringing them along really soon.”</p><p> </p><p>“Said and done!”</p><p> </p><p>Nodding her consent, Cremia stuffed her cloth into the waistband of her apron, slipped past him, and disappeared in the backroom, the clattering of her shoes against the wooden floor slowly fading away from the further she went down the basement. Meanwhile, Green decided to finish the last few glasses and shifted his eyes back to the band, watching them practice to compensate for the dullness of this rather uneventful task. They just finished their song and Nayru exhaled lightly into the microphone, collecting herself.</p><p> </p><p>“That wasn’t so bad,” she said pleased, facing the rest of the band behind her. There was something oddly elven-like to the way she spoke, incredibly tender and graceful. She would make for a great actress too. “Alright boys, I would say we’ll try ‘It’s Unanimous Now’ again and we should be good to go. Blue-.“ Her gaze laid upon the pianist, a young male around his early twenties. He appeared rather roughed up around the edges with his simple choice in clothing and the way his messy, nut-blonde hair stuck out from underneath his hat. Somehow, he didn’t fit into this group’s constellation. As his name fell, he turned smoothly on his stool, raising a brow to a questioning, almost annoyed look. His facial features were sharp, eyes bright, and stark in color, brimming with a deep ocean-blue that could speak volumes of stories, yet the meaning behind them remained to be a mystery. Truthfully, he was really handsome. “I know you like to go fancy with your piano play but maybe keep it down a little this time, will you? I don’t want you overpowering the vocals.”</p><p> </p><p>“People seemed to like it a lot last time,” Blue replied in his defense, casually leaning back against the piano in his back with his long legs stretched out, arms crossing loosely in front of his chest. “Or at least, I didn’t hear anyone complain. Did you?”</p><p> </p><p>“No, but it distracts a lot from the actual song. I need to focus on the lyrics and I can’t do that with all these rousing melodies of yours. Just do a little less, alright?” The way she said it was sweet and innocent but for a reason, it seemed to tick the pianist off by a big shot and he flared his nostrils under a fiery breath.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, whatever…” More annoyed than before, Blue turned back to his keys, sighing exasperatedly. On the other side of the stage, the scrawny man with his double bass leaned over with a taunting grin stretching across his seven-day stubble, eyeing Blue’s backside with a playful glint in his eyes. </p><p> </p><p>“Aw, is Johnny-raw pissed because he doesn’t get to show off?” The trumpeter, as well as the saxophonist, joined in into the bass players amused laughter, delighting in the way the younger member of their group immediately tensed up. However, the rather friendly joke was taken a little too personally and Blue squared his shoulders, turning to the bassist and the rest like a wall of fire, voice raised.</p><p> </p><p>“Shut up, you old farts! You should be thanking me that this band hasn’t gone to ruins yet!”</p><p> </p><p>“Boys, please! Be nice,” Nayru interfered quickly, trying to avoid any further conflicts. “You can discuss this another time. Let’s just finish the rehearsal for now.” A last few acidic gazes were exchanged before all of them eventually retreated and went back to their instruments. Green didn’t miss the hilarious expression Blue drew as he fully faced the piano, showing his intense displeasure for the ignorance of his band members, and nearly caught himself giggling at the display but stopped himself just in time, not wanting to draw any attention on him. </p><p> </p><p><i>Poor guy,</i> he thought to himself, shaking his head softly. <i>He just wants to shine, too. I wonder if he’s that good.</i> Reaching out for the next glass, he noticed the pianist meeting his eyes briefly, his bothered mien dropping to something softer, an awkward, almost uncomfortable smile touching his lips as if he wanted to tell him: “Old men these days… just awful” and, to be honest, Green could relate and returned the look with an empathic, understanding smile of his own. Gathering some courage from it, Blue put his attention back on the keys and began snapping his fingers, setting the pace of the next song before, one by one, all the members joined back in, creating a smooth, fast swing. </p><p> </p><p>“Green!” Nearly drowned out by the music, Green received the faint shout-out from Cremia in the basement. “Can you give me a hand with the beer kegs?”</p><p> </p><p>“Coming!” he called back, finishing the last glass and throwing his drying cloth on the counter. Before leaving, he took one last glance at the pianist, effortlessly hitting the keys, but also fairly bored as well. Maybe, he should ask him for an encore later, just to lighten up the mood a little. Perhaps, he would appreciate it. With that thought in mind, Green disappeared into the back as well. There was still a lot to do before the first guests would arrive.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>Three hours later, the small pub was bursting from dancing, drinking, and cheering people. The show was great, it was loud and crowded, the air thick with cigarette fumes and alcohol vapors and everyone was having a good time. Green was operating at full stretch, refilling beer after beer and scotch after scotch, all while trying to coordinate around Cremia and her little sister behind the bar. It was hard to keep his thoughts together with so many glasses to deal with, so many heads to recognize and so many orders flying past his head. The house was at its fullest in a long time but with Nayru being the centerpiece of tonight’s show, it wasn’t all that surprising. Words about her appearance must have spread like a wildfire in town. It felt like the entire residents tried to fit into this small pub. When this shift was over, the cash tills would ring wildly, that was for certain. So, despite all the stress, Green remained cheerful the whole time, flashing each new guest a bright smile when handing over their beverages. How could he possibly lose his spirits with such an infectious positivity running through the crowd and the great music playing in the background? No, the good mood still wasn’t wearing thin.</p><p> </p><p>“Here you go, Sirs! Two doubles!” With a skillful push, Green sent two whiskey glasses sliding across the bar, right into the two men’s hands, who ordered them. “Enjoy!”</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you, young sport!” one of the men replied, lifting his glass at him in a silent toast, which Green countered with a brief nod before heading back to his spot. A small group of women started collecting at the bar, giggling and gossiping, constantly keeping their eyes on the stage. Wise choice, the view on the stage from the bar was by far the best in the pub. They were rather modest and asked for some wine, which Green poured them with great pleasure, all while listening to their conversation. </p><p> </p><p>“Nayru looks stunning in that dress. I wonder who her tailor is. I would die for this dress!” </p><p> </p><p>“I need to know how she gets this cute, little wave in her hair. I can never get my hair to sit like that.”</p><p> </p><p>“This headband is so good on her! Why can I never find such pretty accessories?”</p><p> </p><p><i>Women..,</i> came the slightly annoying thought, accompanied by a roll of his eyes, as Green placed three clean glasses on the bar top, generously filling them with some low-quality red wine.</p><p> </p><p>“By the way, does she have a new pianist? I’ve never seen him around here before.”</p><p> </p><p>As the topic switched over to Blue, Green looked up curiously, suddenly not feeling as bothered by their useless babbling as only a second ago.</p><p> </p><p>“I think she does! My my, such a gallant, young man! He is the finest eye candy. Look at him with his shirt open wide.”</p><p> </p><p>“Indeed. I wonder if Nayru has a thing for him. Maybe that’s why she hired him in the first place. I’ll be betting that he plays her pieces on the piano all the time.”</p><p> </p><p>“Never! He is way too young for that! Or does she have a thing for younger men?”</p><p> </p><p>There was a loud, shocked gasp. “No way!”</p><p> </p><p><i>… gross.</i> Now, he wished that he hadn’t listened too closely. What were people thinking? He could only shake his head, focusing on not spilling wine all over the counter and finished filling the last glass before carefully pushing them over to the small group. “Alright, ladies! Enjoy your treats!” Not losing a single word of gratitude, the women took their glasses and left, leaving Green behind, rather irritated. <i>Stuck up chicks…</i> His eyes followed them back to the dancing floor until they disappeared within the shifting maze of spinning and turning pairs, out of his system, taking the sourness on his tongue away almost immediately. </p><p> </p><p>A long sigh left him, the wine bottle still in his hand, and the currently playing song came to an end. The guests applauded loudly for the band, eagerly awaiting the next song but to their disappointment, a short break was announced instead and the musicians left the stage – except for Blue. He stayed for a short moment longer, rolling his wrists and gently massaging his palms to release some strain from his hands and waited until the rest of the band members had completely disappeared in the back.</p><p> </p><p>Green watched him curiously, unintentionally so, and quickly noticed that he had changed into his evening attire. Nothing too crazy, it was still fairly modest compared to the flashy, glittery dress Nayru wore. Just a simple, clean, blue shirt with a few buttons undone to reveal a nice, firm chest, over a sheer black pair of suit pants, pulled up by uniform suspenders. The hat was still the same but fitted in well nonetheless. Very simplistic but the rough edge was still shining through. It almost seemed like he was purposely trying to dissociate himself from the group but why? </p><p> </p><p><i>How weird…</i> Eventually, Blue rose to his full height and, instead of following his band, went in the opposite direction, where the main entrance was. <i>Is he- not getting along with the band?</i></p><p> </p><p>“Excuse me!” Suddenly, Cremia’s voice sounded close to his left ear. Green startled, pulling away from his thoughts and eyed the woman next to him with a slightly baffled look.</p><p> </p><p>“Y-yes?”</p><p> </p><p>“Do you still need the wine?” His gaze followed Cremia’s arm, which was pointing at the bottle he was still holding for no particular reason. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh! No, I don’t.” Quickly putting on a sheepish smile, he handed the vessel over, pretending like his slightly absent demeanor wasn’t even there. “Sorry!” Cremia took the bottle with a playful roll of her eyes before turning and refilling someone’s empty glass. Then, his eyes flicked back to where Blue was just heading a few seconds ago and just passed the exact moment he slipped outside the pub, his tall silhouette throwing shades against the window as he walked by. <i>Or maybe he just needs some fresh air.</i> Strangely, Green felt incredibly tempted to follow and talk to him. He was- interesting to say the least. Somehow, he had caught his curiosity, enough to awake the feeling in him that he wanted to get to know the rugged pianist better. But wouldn’t it be weird to just walk after him and randomly start a conversation? </p><p> </p><p>Suddenly, there was a loud clunk on the counter as someone smashed his beer tumbler down. The scruffy man asked Cremia for another one, which gave Green an idea. So, he pulled out a bottle of their best scotch from the cabinet and poured a nice drink over an ice cube to make it look fancy. Bringing over a drink seemed like enough of an excuse to leave his post and engage in a conversation for a while, wasn’t it? Even so, Romani just jumped in to help keep the customers' glasses filled. His absence should be tolerated then.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll be right back!”</p><p> </p><p>Picking up the beverage and simply assuming that Cremia or either her sister had heard him, Green made his way over to the main entrance, swiftly maneuvering around the tables and chairs and people. Since no one was dancing right now, it proved to be fairly easy to do and he reached the door without further complications. Heading outside, a clear night sky greeted him, the stars bright, the moon in full shine. The air was cool and refreshing against his lungs, soothingly shooing away the haze of cigarette fumes and heavy smells of sweat and perfume. His gaze wandered around in search of the pianist. Maybe he also headed down to the shore nearby but he was nowhere to be found at first sight. Side alleyway, maybe? For privacy matters? Taking that into consideration, he turned right, following the path in a casual stroll until he reached the first junction. He craned his head slightly, peeking around the corner and scanned the alleyway briefly.</p><p> </p><p>Indeed, there he was, resting his back against the wall of the nearby building and taking a long pull from his cigarette. His silhouette was alighted by a small cone of warm yellow, shadows winding around his body, where the lights didn’t reach. Smoke emitted from his mouth and nose, creeping along the shape of his lips and chin and collected to thick mist circling his head. There was something dreamy to the way he looked up into the sky, his iris swallowing the shine of the stars greedily like he wanted to collect ideas from it, ideas for that still shapeless thing playing before his inner eye. Was it a new melody? A new song? Whatever it was that captivated him, that made him seem so cool and untouchable almost, he still didn’t lack a single bit of his roughness. He wasn’t a smooth guy. That was for sure. Yet, he still managed to maintain such a stunning aura, <i>gallant</i> as the ladies at the bar had said it. It was oddly fascinating to watch him but this was not what Green had come for.</p><p> </p><p>Releasing a sigh, Green moved on, approaching him confidently. He was halfway into the alleyway as his presence was perceived and Blue turned his head slowly, eyeing him with a questioning look while bringing the cigarette back up to his lips. </p><p> </p><p>“Hey,” Green said, slowing down his gate a bit, but still approaching the other, unimpeded. “I thought, you might want a drink.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hm?” Rather confused, Blue’s eyes flicked down to the glass in Green’s hand, examining it in a leery manner, blowing another cloud of cigarette mist into the air. “We didn’t order scotch as far as I’m concerned.”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s on the house.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh?” With a kind smile Green stretched his arm out, offering him the beverage, which Blue took gladly with a surprised, but pleased grin. “Can’t say no to that, can I?” With the glass in hand, he raised the vessel just slightly, making a silent toast to Green to show his appreciation. “Thank you very much!” Shortly after, the rim of the glass touched his lips, wetting them just slightly with a little bit of the strong liquor, giving it a quick taste first. While lowering the drink again, he licked his lips, not missing a single droplet, and studied the flavor precisely until eventually, a satisfying hum buzzed in his throat. He liked it. “That’s a really good scotch. I hope you didn’t go to expenses pouring that drink for me.” </p><p> </p><p>Green smiled happily in return and decided to give Blue some company by leaning himself against the wall right next to him, folding his hands behind his back. “It’s not a big deal, really. Today’s tip should make up for it.”</p><p> </p><p>“If you say so.” Blue tossed the glass smoothly in his hand, watching the light-brown, silky liquid clinging beautifully to the walls and swirl around the ice cube before tilting his head and taking another sip, this time a bigger one. He inhaled deeply, delighting in the aromatic vapors of the drink. His expression was content, fulfilled. He enjoyed a good scotch, it seemed. “Are you having a good time so far? Enjoying the show?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes,” Green agreed with an enthusiastic nod. “The music is great. You guys know how to raise the spirits.”</p><p> </p><p>“Do we? Oh well…” Blue uttered, wordlessly offering Green his cigarette. He wasn’t much of a heavy smoker but appreciated some tobacco now and then. So, he decided to embrace Blue’s generosity and took it, taking a long pull for himself before handing it back, feeling himself relax as the smoke left a little prickle in the back of his throat. Blue smiled warmly in reaction, dapping the access ash from the tip of his cigarette. “Honestly, I believe people only enjoy it so much because it’s Nayru. Just put any other talented musician on stage singing the same song and people won’t be nearly as impressed as if it was her.”</p><p> </p><p>“She is rather famous, so I guess that makes sense,” Green pondered, slightly bugged by the bitterness that bled into the other’s speech. He couldn’t stop feeling that Blue wasn’t on good terms with the band, for whatever reason. “Aren’t you going to join the others?” Blue looked back at him quizzically. “In the backroom, I mean. Like, don’t you want to stick around and discuss the next songs or something?”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah.” There was some hesitation as the other intended to answer but before that, the cigarette was back on his lips, using it as an excuse to think his next words over carefully. “They- don’t need me for that kind of stuff.” He wanted to take another pull right after but quickly noticed that there was just the cotton stub left and with a quick flip of his hand, it went flying against the opposite house wall, accompanied by a long, stressed sigh. “I know all the songs and Nayru usually leaves it up to me how I do the backing. Makes it pretty much pointless to stick around and listen to their annoying rambling. I’d rather be here and- switch off for a bit.” There was clearly frustration bottled up in there, Green could sense it by that bothered frown inhering his features, the way he squared his shoulders and how hurriedly he raised his glass again, draining another big sip to rinse off the tension. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s- not any of my business but-.“ Blue’s eyes were back on him, unnervingly neutral looking, though Green felt that he was very irritated. It made him nervous since he wasn’t able to fully estimate what reaction was going to follow. “I have a feeling you’re not getting along with the others.” This statement made the other raise a brow first, seemingly not having foreseen it, but then his mien turned into something somber. Supposedly, Green had struck a sensitive nerve there.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t get me wrong,” he explained, eyes cast down to his drink, studying it absently. “Nayru is a great singer. I like working for her. She is kind and considerate and pays me well, but it’s- just not the same. She always has her shows well sorted out and there is never much space for changes and improvement. I’m always restricted to this backing position. I’ll never get the chance to play a solo or anything fancy, something I want, you know? And then, there are those old farts, who think that they’re better than me because they have much more experience in the business. It sucks… feels like I’m wasting my fucking time.</p><p> </p><p>Green slowly nodded in consent, understanding the issue the other seemed to have. His ambition didn’t quite coincide with the band’s ideas. He wanted to be more than just the shadow of a famous singer. A frustrating thing indeed. “If you are unhappy with the band, why don’t you just leave? Nothing is keeping you there, or is it?”</p><p> </p><p>“I was thinking about that already.” Trailing off for a second, Blue used the moment to raise his glass again, this time chucking the entire remnants with one go. He drew a face in displeasure, disliking the strong afterburn, and shook his head vigorously to get rid of it. “The problem is, it’s difficult to gain a foothold in this business as a soloist and if you aren’t famous, the fee is awfully bad. It’s not even enough to pay rent, nor even buy food. That’s not a life I want to live.” </p><p> </p><p>“How about joining another band?” Green suggested carefully. </p><p> </p><p>“Believe me, I’ve played with so many different bands by now. None of them ever really did it for me. It’s all the same. Be the backing, keep the band on rhythm, add a few, nice tunes here and there to spice things up. That’s it.” There was a long, irritated sigh. “I guess good pianists are just highly underrated these days.” That was a difficult situation, which Green didn’t know if he could make a decision that easily. The music business was hard. It was easy money-making if you could play an instrument but without a good status, it wasn’t very lucrative. It was just like he said. Musicians were poor fellows that couldn’t even afford the simplest of things. Someone like Nayru however, with a name and status in society, would never have to worry about anything but even she was only so little without her music and her band. That felt so wrong somehow. “I guess, I’m gonna stick with them for a while, collect some savings, see a couple of new places, and then, I’ll go look for something else, search for new opportunities.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sounds like a plan.” Their gazes met again and despite the slight gloom and uncertainty swaying between them, Blue smiled, faintly, but he smiled like a big weight was lifted off his shoulders. Then, he raised his arm, checking the time on his watch. </p><p> </p><p>“I better head back inside,” Blue said, exhaling as he pushed himself off the wall. “The show must go on.” He handed the empty glass back for Green to take it. “Thanks for the talk, and the drink of course. I appreciate it.” Slowly, Green took the glass from his hands and watched on, as he slipped past him and walked back to the pub. It just occurred to him, as the other disappeared behind the corner, that he hadn’t even told him his name. Did it even matter? He was only one of the so many people Blue met every single day. What did one name more do for him? Most likely, he would forget it anyway, out of sight, out of mind. </p><p> </p><p>…</p><p> </p><p>That sounded more painful than it actually should. Green truly wondered: Would he ever see him again? Play piano in the Little Meadow? With another band? Or maybe alone? However this was going to happen, the truth was, for some odd reason-</p><p> </p><p>He kind of wished, he would.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Dissonance</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Not much to say here from my side. A much longer chapter this time, which will hopefully not cease to entertain. Please enjoy! :D</p><p>Warning: This chapter contains implied violence, blood and mild graphic descriptions. Please do not proceed if you are sensitive to any of the said things!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I guarantee you, young man, you won’t find anything better these days,” the salesman hollered under his mustache, both hands digging into his sides as he eyed Green with a grim look from behind his counter. Green sighed, examining the round object in his hand with a sad expression. This was the fourth stall he had been checking out but still, the fruits were anything but satisfactory.</p><p> </p><p>“These oranges are as hard as rocks! I could smack it across someone’s head and it would kill them!”</p><p> </p><p>“Well, you aren’t supposed to knock somebody over but rather eat them. How about that?” the man countered, clearly annoyed by Green’s pickiness. “What do you expect? The orange season is long over. All we have now is the cheap stuff from the colonies. It’s better than nothing.”</p><p>“I guess so…” It was better than nothing, even though he had no idea how he was supposed to cut them. Any knife would fail to slice through these things. Maybe it would be beneficial for the time-being to omit the unnecessary decoration on the cocktail glasses, but knowing Cremia, she wouldn’t be too pleased with the suggestion. What else were there to put in a cocktail to make it look pretty other than orange and lemon slices? “How much?”</p><p> </p><p>“Five rupees each.” </p><p> </p><p>A blond brow quirked up in utter disbelief. “That’s supposed to be cheap?”</p><p> </p><p>“Listen, kid, I have five hungry mouths to feed at home. My wife is going to give birth to child number six in a couple of months. The rents have been increased again. The taxes are rising and rising without an end. Do you think we can live off of selling a couple of fruits and vegetables?!” came the snarky defense. “Four rupees. That is my last offer.”</p><p> </p><p>“This garbage is not even worth one single rupee!”</p><p> </p><p>“Do you want them or not?!”</p><p> </p><p>Swallowing down another heated comment, Green drew a deep breath, keeping his voice at bay even though his expression remained fierce. He wasn’t going to fall for the salesman’s rambling. Arranging life wasn’t easy for him either. Trying to soften him by mentioning his family wasn’t going to work. However, he still felt for the other man, knowing how difficult it was to live with so many people under one roof. His family was just as big and every new day was accompanied by chaos. Trying to keep a cool head? In most cases impossible, not with so many cousins and nephews and nieces back at home. “Two rupees,” he demanded, voice firm, his posture steady.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you cloth-eared? I said I wouldn’t go lower!”</p><p> </p><p>“Fine, then I’ll leave and look somewhere else. Someone is willing to take less for these.”</p><p> </p><p>The salesman looked like he was close to bursting, his nose flaring under a fiery breath, face flushed from anger. If Green hadn’t known it any better, he would’ve most likely sent him packing but he knew, the man needed the money and he wasn’t going to let him leave so easily. “Alright, three rupees! Three rupees for one orange but that is my last offer!” That still wasn’t fully satisfying. Maybe he could push it a little lower, just a little bit.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay, here is the deal! I take five for three but I want-.“ He pointed at the basket full of lemons. “Two of these.” From the lemon basket, his finger switched over to a container filled with mint. “And a bundle of mint for free.” Since he wanted more than the salesman was already willing to give him in the first place, the other was anything but pleased with the suggestion.</p><p> </p><p>“You have the nerves to-!”</p><p> </p><p>A hand raised quickly, stopping the man from rambling. “I wasn’t finished yet!” His words cut off and he remained silent, continuing to listen to what Green still had to say. “In exchange, I’d like to offer you a scotch for free in our Little Meadow.” Suddenly, the salesman’s grumpy attitude flipped over to positive surprise, exactly what he was going for. “What’s money worth, if you can’t even enjoy the small things in life? Come over to our place and switch off for a bit! I’m sure that will get you back on more positive thoughts.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hmm…” Considering Green’s tempting offer, the man reached up, scratching his beard in thought while a low grumble rattled in his throat. “You surely know how to be convincing. I can’t say no to a scotch… Fine. We have a deal.” Pleased with himself, Green watched the man fill a bag with the things he asked for, adding one more orange than agreed but he wouldn’t complain. The more the merrier. “Here you go, kid!”</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you, Sir!” Reaching out, Green took the bag and paid the man, nodding his head with his free hand holding the rim of his flat hat as he spoke his farewells. “Have a nice day!”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll remind you of that scotch, kid!” Chuckling amusedly, Green spun lightly on his heels and continued, making his way out of the marketplace. While walking, he checked his leather bag for the rest of the items that he had bought so far, mentally working his way through the checklist of things he had to get for the pub. </p><p> </p><p><i>Let’s see… I got the fruits and herbs, the bitter, corn syrup, sugar. Yes, I think I got everything.</i> That meant, he was done with his errands for today. Time to go back to the pub. </p><p> </p><p>Closing his bag again, Green moved on contently, a light hop fused into his gate as he followed the road down to the harbor. The weather was nice, the sun warm on his freckled skin, while a gentle, cool breeze softly ruffled up his hair. From the distance, he could see the reflection of the lake touching the edge of the horizon, a few tiny triangles occasionally showing up, the sails from the hookers peacefully gliding across the waves. Green sighed lightly through a smile, enjoying the view, his feet carrying him on further and further down the path until he reached the boardwalk. It didn’t take long and his attention was immediately drawn to a group of people gathering in front of an alleyway, curiously examining what was inside. </p><p> </p><p><i>What’s going on over there?</i> He decided to take a look for himself and approached the gathering carefully, the nervous, anxious whispers ghosting along his ears increasing in volume the closer he got. Gazes were exchanged among the passersby, confused, concerned, worried. He truly wondered, what would await him, not having a clear picture in mind. Getting close enough, Green looked for a fitting spot, trying to get a glimpse of what was keeping those people occupied. </p><p> </p><p>“This is awful. Who would do something like this?”</p><p> </p><p>“Is he still alive? He appears to be breathing, isn’t he?”</p><p> </p><p>“I better stay out of this. Who knows, who he was messing around with.”</p><p> </p><p>After a little bit of walking back and forth, Green finally managed to get a good angle on the alleyway. <i>Oh no…</i> It wasn’t too hard to see what people were so fascinated about; halfway into the small lane near a couple of storage boxes was a young male, collapsed onto himself with his head still awkwardly leaning against the wall of the nearby house. He didn’t move, nor did he show any kind of vital signs, defaced by purplish bruises and cuts, blood smeared all over his white cheeks and jaw and staining the blond of his hair. It seemed that he was involved in some kind of fight, a mugging most likely, and was left here for good after the whole ordeal was over.</p><p> </p><p>Before Green could stop himself, he was already pushing past the people blocking the way and hurried to the other’s side, earning a couple of surprised gasps in reaction. Since nobody else was willing to help the poor guy out, he would do it. There was no way he would move on and leave him here to rot like this. Skipping to a stop, Green sank down next to the broken figure, his knees hitting the cobblestone harshly as he did and gave the blond a quick lookover. From this perspective he was a disaster to behold, a long trail of crimson dripping from his jaw, wandering down his neck and fading into the cream-colored cotton of his shirt, tinting the collar a menacing, deep red. More blood was sprinkled all over his middle, some spots bigger, some smaller, the fabric ripped apart in several places, revealing a few shallow cuts. Looking at his arms, they bore dark bruises on the wrists, his hands blistered around the knuckles. Whoever he was fighting with, he didn’t give in that easily, defending himself vigorously as it seemed. No bullet wounds at first sight, thankfully, and most importantly – he was still breathing. That was a relief. However, there was no way Green could fix this all by himself. This guy was just an utter mess.</p><p> </p><p><i>Shit…</i> Carefully, Green reached out for the other’s shoulders, giving them a gentle shake, seeing if he could somehow reach out to him. “Hey there! Can you hear me? Are you still in there?” he spoke, loud and clear, watching the blond intensely for even the smallest of reactions. “Come on, buddy! This isn’t the best place for taking a nap.” </p><p> </p><p>The soft shakes along with his words proved to be enough to stir something inside the young man, his chest rising more considerably with the attempt of heaving a pained breath. His lips parted just slightly, trying to draw in the air but something else ran down his windpipe instead and he coughed, spit mixed with blood creepingly pouring from his lips and traveling down his chin.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh sweet merciful…” Reacting quickly, Green reached for his handkerchief in the pocket of his shirt and carefully dabbed away the fluids spilling from his mouth, gingerly holding his face in place as the touch made him squirm away in pain. “Don’t move! It’s alright. I’m just trying to help.” The information was processed, dragging, but the blond complied and held still, letting Green clean him up. His breath evened out, flat and struggled, his eyebrows forming a distressed frown along with the slight twitches of his ears. He was coming around, slowly but surely. “Yeah, there we go. That’s good.” A small sound emitted from his throat, hoarse and airy, and eventually, his eyelids fluttered open with difficulty but Green kept encouraging him, wiping more dirt off his cheeks and pushing a few blood-soaked strands away from his face. And then, two blue eyes stared back at him, tired, beaten, and… strangely familiar.</p><p> </p><p><i>Wait a minute…</i> How did he not recognize him before? Of course! He knew him! He was that pianist, who played for Nayru’s band! What was his name again?</p><p> </p><p>“... too late,” the blond mumbled through lips that didn’t want to fully part, his voice thin, barely a whisper rolling from his tongue. Nonetheless, Green still recalled the sound. Yes, he was definitely the pianist from back then, without a doubt. He watched him attentively as he dipped his head to the left, trying to meet his gaze but not quite managing to, his hollow eyes just staring into the void. “I couldn’t… they were- too many...”</p><p> </p><p>“Shhh, it’s okay,” Green shushed him, patting his head comfortingly and taking in the moment the other relaxed under the touch, letting his eyes fall shut again from exhaustion. “You are safe now. They are gone.”</p><p> </p><p>“My my… that surely looks bad.” </p><p> </p><p>Suddenly, a voice sounded right behind him and Green turned to see one of the passersby that had built up enough courage to step closer and look. But that was all he did, not even bothering to give him a hand or do anything helpful. <i>Sensationalist asshole… Don’t you have other businesses to tend to other than watching people in distress?!</i> Against his better judgment, he couldn’t help but feel incredibly angry and he had no qualms letting the gawking man know that. </p><p> </p><p>“If you are planning to just stand there and stare like a damsel in distress, then get the fuck out of here!” His gaze wandered to the large crowd on the other end of the alleyway and he threw his finger at them in despise. “And take that useless pack with you, insensitive scum!” The man flinched at his display, shrinking onto himself in shame before he eventually withdrew and moved on. His announcement was loud enough for the rest of the gathering to hear and slowly, it started to dissolve until no one remained. Green sighed in annoyance, getting a hold of his temper again. People sometimes… </p><p> </p><p>“Ugh…”</p><p> </p><p>“Huh?” Flicking his gaze back at the pianist at the pained sound, he watched him trying to get up, but he didn’t make it far, just barely bracing himself onto his lower arms before the last bits of strength left him and he slumped back down again with a loud groan. “Hey! Don’t!” Preventing him from trying once more, Green quickly pressed his hand against his shoulder, signalizing that he should stay put, which he did without further resistance, probably because there wasn’t much will and energy left to make him get up again.</p><p> </p><p><i>Blue…</i> Blue was his name. He remembered now. How long had it been since they had seen each other? Half a year? Could that be? Half a year already… It didn’t feel this long at all. How time flew by so fast. </p><p> </p><p>Fate had a weird way of reuniting them for sure.</p><p> </p><p>“Fucking- shit…” Blue cursed silently under his breath, opening his eyes while facing the sky, his eyes flicking around disorientedly, trying to grasp onto his surroundings, comprehending where he was, what was happening, but quite fruitlessly so. “They took everything… everything… my money.” </p><p> </p><p>So, Green’s first assumption was correct. He was mugged, with brutal force it seemed. “Who did this to you? Who attacked you? Do you remember?” he asked carefully, reaching over to dab some blood away from his brow, preventing the liquid from running into his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve… never seen them before,” came the struggled reply, followed by a whine caused by the light pressure Green was applying to his pulsing forehead. “They were- six, I think… clad in black suits.”</p><p> </p><p>The notion that the other had to stand up to six people at once left a sour taste in Green’s mouth, feeling his blood boil in anger. <i>Cowards… honorless cowards.</i></p><p> </p><p>Blue continued, swallowing harshly to moisten his parched throat. “They said Ingo- owes them money.” </p><p> </p><p>“Ingo?” Green repeated, drawing a confused face. “The owner of the Hopping Horseshoe?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, him,” came a hesitant, nearly invisible nod. Blue paused, using the moment to draw a deep breath, looking incredibly pained to do so but he managed without swallowing his spit this time. A broken rib or two? Probably. “The money Ingo paid me with… belongs to- Valentino, they said.” Green’s eyes widened in shock as Valentino’s name fell, his breath hitching along with a full-body shudder. So the robbers weren’t just any robbers - they belonged to the mafia. He sorely hoped the other was mistaken but given the description of the delinquents, it only made sense. Running into the mafia like this, it was a miracle that Blue was still alive. “Ingo… that fucking bastard! He- sold my damn ass out to those misfi- Argh!” A loud, stabbing shriek pierced Green’s ears as the other cut off mid-sentence, his arms flung around his torso to pointlessly try and soothe the aches of his hurting chest. Yet, he just ended up hurting himself even further.</p><p> </p><p>“Blue!” Carefully, he tried to remove the arms around him again, cautious not to cause him even further pain. If Blue was involved in mafia businesses, it wouldn’t be wise to stay out here in the open. It was probably for the best getting him to the Little Meadow, to safety. But… would that be such a good idea? What if he would draw the mafia’s attention on them? Then Cremia and Romani would be pulled into this as well. But he couldn’t just leave him here like this! He needed help! He needed a doctor! </p><p> </p><p><i>Maybe it was just an unhappy coincidence and he hasn’t got anything to do with the mafia. Even so, they would have killed him for good. Why would they keep him alive?</i> Yes, it had to be a different reason but that was something he would have to worry about later. For now, Green had to get him away from here. </p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>It had taken Green quite some effort getting the man to the pub, not a particularly lengthy or rocky walk, but given the man’s current condition and his difficulties to align his feet in the right way to not eventually tumble over them, it proved to be rather arduous. Of course, the whole procedure would have been that much easier if the one or the other person he met during the way had bothered giving the poor guy a helping hand instead of simply catching a curious peep or straight-up staring at them in utter fascination. As if a beaten-up, haggard man was that much of an attraction. Not only was it rude to do so but what didn’t sit right with Green was their sheer ignorance. Was a little bit of moral courage too much to ask for? Why was everyone so bent on minding their own business? They saw how awful Blue looked and how much trouble they had moving on and still, seeing the need for engaging wasn’t there at all. </p><p> </p><p>However, there wasn’t much space to feel irritated now. Green had other issues, bigger issues, than dealing with this right now. Blue’s condition was anything but favorable and too often, he would tense up whenever the other stopped grunting and moaning in pain, turning unnervingly silent. He feared that there was more broken with the guy than it seemed at first sight. Given that he, unfortunately, ran into the mafia, this would be very likely the case. One more reason to hurry. </p><p> </p><p>Green was relieved to find the bar empty, judging by the glance through the window as he passed. He kicked the door open in his rush, carefully maneuvering the injured inside. Fairly, it was still too early for their regular guests to show up for lunch break, but that didn’t count out the possibility of that one exceptional guy sitting at the bar, nursing his good-morning cigarette along a scotch to compensate for the restless night of sleep. Thankfully, that kind of nuisance was spared from him. The last thing Cremia needed was weird gossip spreading around her pub. Old men had an awful habit of spreading such sensitive information quickly and, oh, what kind of absurd stories would originate from the fact that the young bartender Green carried a semi-conscious musician into the Little Meadow? </p><p> </p><p>“Cremia!” he called out, unable to track the chipper red-head somewhere nearby, stepping closer inside with the blond limply clinging to his shoulder. “Cremia! Where are you? I need you down here!” Shortly after, a sound of acknowledgment came from the backrooms, followed closely by the constant clattering of shoes against the wooden floor until eventually, the young lady emerged, still unaware of what was going to await her.</p><p> </p><p>“There you are!” she exclaimed cheerfully upon rounding the bar, her hands fiddling with her hair, fingers skillfully braiding it down. It seemed like she was in the middle of getting dressed for her shift. “What took you so long? You’ve been gone for almost-.“ As she had a decent view on her employee and the mess right next to him, her eyes grew wide in shock and she drew back a step with a startled gasp, her hand touching her chest, stricken with horror. “Sweet merciful Hylia!” After taking in the sight for a moment, Cremia recovered from the unpleasant surprise and approached them slowly, her gaze fixed on Blue. Skipping to a stop at arm’s length, she carefully reached for the blond’s face, lifting it, so she could take a closer look. Green hoped that she would remember him, but he missed that spark of realization in her eyes that would support this. No, he was just a stranger to her. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh dear, what happened to him? Did he get into a fight?”</p><p> </p><p>“Probably,” Green explained. “I found him lying in an alleyway near the docks like this. I think he was mugged.”</p><p> </p><p>“Mugged? During the daytime?” Cremia pointed out in disbelief, pulling away again and reaching for the handkerchief in her apron, carefully dabbing some blood off of the injured man’s mouth. “I don’t know, Green, but this poor fellow looks like he has seen worse than a mugging. Who would be cruel enough to maul someone like this for money?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well,” he muttered hesitantly, making the girl in front of him look up questioningly. “The mafia surely would.” The simple mentioning of the mafia was enough to make Cremia draw away from Blue quickly, her face twisted in a mixture of panic and anger. She lowered her voice significantly, probably to prevent her sister and potential passersby from eavesdropping, leaning closer to Green.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you out of your goddamn mind?!” she hissed under her breath, words sharp with reproach. “Why are you bringing one of Valentino’s men into my house? Do you have any idea what they-.” Before she could talk herself into a rage, Green cut in quickly, trying to explain himself for his actions.</p><p> </p><p>“I know what you are going to say but believe me, it’s not like this. He talked to me, maybe not fully conscious, but from what I got this wasn’t his fault.”</p><p> </p><p>“Because it was never anyone’s fault when the mafia came to beat the shit out of them. For Nayru’s sake, Green, just how naive are you!?”</p><p> </p><p>“Cremia…” Green sighed, almost desperate. He knew it wouldn’t be easy to convince her of Blue’s innocence. She had a huge grudge on anyone that had businesses with the mafia, especially after her father had managed to run himself into unspeakably high debts with those people and ended up selling his entire property to pay all the money back. It was only natural that she was so reluctant now but Green firmly believed that Blue wasn’t like this. He just wasn’t. Cremia had to understand. “Look, it doesn’t matter if you believe me or not. This guy needs help, mafia, or not. Do you really want to let him rot outside?”</p><p> </p><p>“You actually think that I’ll help out-“</p><p> </p><p>“You should’ve seen him back at the docks! There was a huge crowd standing in front of the alleyway like he was some kind of attraction and they all just stared at him without even bothering to look if he was still alive! He was spitting blood, he can’t move on his own, he can barely breathe. They would have watched him die eventually!” The last sentence seemingly managed to move something inside the woman and her previous fierce expression dropped to something softer, something more caring. She reconsidered, of course, she did. She wasn’t heartless either. “Please, at least let him stay to recover. Let a doctor look over him. You can even dock off the bill from my pay if you want, but don’t make me throw him out on the streets like this. Nobody else is willing to help him out. You know how people are around here.”</p><p> </p><p>Cremia let out a long, frustrated sigh, digging her hands into her waist. Clearly, she wasn’t okay with the thought of letting a potential mafia member stay at her house, her bar, but throwing him to the wolves wasn’t an option either, especially if the man in question was truly just a poor, innocent soul that ended up at the wrong location in the wrong time. Without losing a word she skipped over to the backdoor, craning her head into the hallway, calling out for her sister.</p><p> </p><p>“Mani, dear!” she exclaimed, waiting a second for the girl to reply to her call. “Please prepare a guest room! One on the first floor if possible!” After receiving a short word of consent, she turned on the spot and went for the bar, picking up the phone to take a call. “Get him upstairs and tell Mani to stay away from him. She mustn’t see him like this. I’ll call the doctor.” A large wave of relief flooded Green at Cremia’s change of heart and he thanked her wholeheartedly, offering her a smile, which she countered with a roll of her eyes, waving him off. Carefully, Green started moving again, waiting for Blue to follow along and he helped him to the guest room.</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>It didn’t take long for the doctor to arrive in the Little Meadow after Cremia had set the call and the old man got to work immediately after taking a quick glimpse at the badly injured blond in the bed. He had asked for a few supplies like a bowl of cold water and some clean linen cloths before demanding privacy while tending to his wounds. Green and the two girls remained in the bar in the meantime, waiting until the doctor was done with everything and would come down again to tell them that Blue was going to be okay. Until then, Cremia decided to close the bar over lunchtime, much to the displeasure of many of their loyal customers, but she didn’t want to cause unrest and potential rumors cursing around when people saw the doctor at their bar. It never gave a good impression. People had a certain distaste for anything related to medicine, so she wanted to be sure that her pub maintained its flawless status.</p><p> </p><p>“Who is he anyway?” Romani asked curiously, sitting on top of the counter with her legs idly swinging back and forth in the air. “Are you two familiar at all?”</p><p> </p><p>“Well,” Green uttered, tapping his fingers nervously against the counter, watching the young girl staring back at him with big round eyes. “Not really. We’ve met before a while ago but not long enough to get to know each other.” Maybe Romani would remember him. She was good at memorizing people, interesting people to say the least. When he had carried Blue’s semi-conscious body to the guest room, she probably caught a quick glimpse of him, maybe enough for her to recall his face. “He used to play in our pub before. For Nayru’s band to be precise.”</p><p> </p><p>As the small description fell, Romani started to skim her memories for the man, shifting her gaze through the bar as if she hoped that it would give her a helpful hint in return if she just stared intensively enough.</p><p> </p><p>“He plays the piano, doesn’t he?” She got the right thought and Green felt his spirits lift significantly. That should help to convince Cremia of the better in Blue.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, he does.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, then I remember him!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together in excitement. “Wasn’t he the one, who stayed on stage after the show was over and took song requests from the guests?”</p><p> </p><p>“Uh-.“ How come he didn’t remember that? He would have known if Blue did something like this but his memory was slow on catching on to what the girl meant and he couldn’t stop a frown from sneaking onto his features. Romani noticed it and giggled at his display, playfully kicking her tiny feet into the air.</p><p> </p><p>“I think you already went to bed before the show even ended. You were pretty beat after that shift,” she explained, tapping her finger gently against her cheek. “He was really sweet. The ladies loved him! Oh, and he played “Epona’s Song” for me without reading music. That was so swell!” Green couldn’t help but smile at the girl’s raving. She liked him. If things turned out bad for Blue in the end, maybe Romani could convince her sister of letting him stay. He didn’t want the poor guy to end up on the streets without a proper place to stay because, as far as he was concerned, he had no money and couldn’t even pay for a guestroom somewhere else. He was a good guy, he just had to be. People didn’t change that much in such a short period of time, or did they?</p><p> </p><p>“Mani! How many times do I have to tell you to not sit on top of the counter?” </p><p> </p><p>Within his trail of thoughts, he heard Cremia enter the bar area, two steaming hot bowls of stew in each hand as she scolded her sister. One bowl was pushed over to him, the other to Romani, who slid off the counter with a pout and sank down on the stool next to him, hesitantly reaching for her spoon. She wasn’t pleased with the food obviously but wasn’t really in any position to argue given that Cremia was already in a pretty bad mood. Green thanked her briefly, but kindly, for the lunch and started eating, watching the woman pace behind the bar, yanking her drying cloth from the waistband of her apron and smashing the polished glasses down with much more force than normally necessary. Tense was an understatement of how the woman was feeling right now. She was upset and Green couldn’t help but feel down about it.</p><p> </p><p>“Cremia…” he sighed, slouching his shoulders while trying to justify himself once again. “Can you please stop being like this? I only mean well for this guy. I don’t have to tell you how bad his condition is. You saw it for yourself.”</p><p> </p><p>“And that is exactly the issue, Green,” Cremia ranted, voiced raised and pointing her index finger at him in a daring fashion, making the blond flinch in his stool. “You never think things through before acting. The only thing that matters to you is that you want to help everyone but you never even consider the consequences that your actions might cause for others!”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s not true!” Green replied, shocked by her poor assessment of his consideration for others. He did care and he did consider the possible outcome for her and her sister if Blue should be involved in any mafia affairs but Blue wasn’t like this, so there was no reason to be concerned.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, it is!” came the icy remark back, not allowing further objections, and the finger pointed at him was now boring into his chest. “You are too gullible for your own good and your recklessness is just going to get us all into trouble! I swear on the Three, Green.” Her eyes sparked with fire, her voice a menacing hum against his eardrums that made Green swallow hard in reaction. “If that man brings me and my dear Mani in danger, you will be fired and I’ll make sure no other bar owner in this town or the towns around will be willing to employ you!”</p><p> </p><p>“Sis.” Romani eventually had heard enough and felt the urge to speak up for herself, not wanting the fight to continue. “You are not being fair! Green is just trying to help! You are acting like he is doing something wrong. What’s wrong with helping others out?”</p><p> </p><p>
  <i>Ha, thanks Romani. At least someone, who sides with me.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>“Mani, sweetie,” Cremia muttered, heaving a breath to get rid of some of that harshness to her voice and pulled back from Green, eyeing her sister in discomfort for her outburst. “Please, stay out of this. This is not just about helping others. This is about criminals and what they do to naive, trusting people that just mean well.”</p><p> </p><p>“But the pianist isn’t a criminal!” she shouted out loud, infuriated. </p><p> </p><p>Cremia blinked at her dumbfoundedly. “Excuse me?”</p><p> </p><p>“The pianist!” Romani repeated, gesturing towards the guest rooms with her spoon. “He is a good man, I know it and you can’t tell me otherwise!”</p><p> </p><p>“A pianist?” Cremia asked, stunned. </p><p> </p><p>“Yes, a pianist,” Green affirmed, feeling more confident now that her little sister was supporting him. “And I think he was deceived.” As the woman just gave him a questioning look instead of barking in, he continued to explain what else he found out. “When I found him, he said Ingo paid him.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ingo… that’s the owner of the “Hopping Horseshoe”. My father and he used to be friends.” </p><p> </p><p>“Right, and he also said that Ingo had told Valentino’s men that he had his money. Do you know what that sounds to me? Ingo gave the man a job, paid him, and then sicced them on him to get the money Ingo owes them!”</p><p> </p><p>Cremia stared back at him in disbelief for a moment and withdrew, mulling over his words with a pensive look on her face. She seemed to pay it some credibility, no snarky comment coming back right away but instead a piece of insightfulness. “I mean,” she began hesitantly, scratching her chin. “I’d give Ingo credit for this. He seems like a sketchy kind of guy but- would he really allow such abuse? I still consider him a man with a good conscience.”</p><p> </p><p>Her statement was replied with a clueless shrug. Green didn’t know Ingo that well, so he could only make assumptions. “If the mafia wants their money, I’m sure every remedy will do.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hylia, have mercy… if this happened-,” Her lips didn’t dare to spill the word. “This is terrible.”</p><p> </p><p>After that was said, all of them remained in silence, Romani reluctantly spooning her stew, while Cremia went back to her glasses, this time treating them with much more care when polishing. Glum, Green stared down at his bowl, not quite feeling the urge to touch it and just listlessly picked at the beef cubes swimming in the brown broth, pushing them around in an idle fashion. Terrible indeed. What kind of heartless bastard would allow this? Even if Ingo was under the influence of the mafia, didn’t he care at all that others came to harm because of his actions? He failed at trying to understand the man’s trail of thoughts.</p><p> </p><p>Some time passed, the words exchanged rare and sparse. The atmosphere was heavy with unrest and uncertainty. But, after almost an hour of being up in the guest room with Blue, the doctor returned to the bar, indicated by the squeaking of the wooden stairs. When the man emerged from the hallway, Green jumped up from his stool, approaching the smaller, stout figure without hesitation. Romani and Cremia were right behind him. </p><p> </p><p>“And?” he asked, almost impatiently. “How is he?” </p><p> </p><p>Completely calm and unconcerned, the man walked past them, placing his leather bag on top with the bar counter. Green followed closely with the others. </p><p> </p><p>“He sure looks bad, but it could be worse,” he explained casually, undoing the straps of his bag and opening the lid. “I cleaned out all the cuts and stitched up the deeper ones around his chest area. The cut on his neck was too delicate to stitch, so I covered it with a wound dressing, which needs to be changed regularly. Make sure he doesn’t move a lot, so his broken ribs and bruised arm can recover properly. He might nurse a concussion as well. Ice packs and cold compresses should help to ease the pain. Lots of rest, some good, filling meals and plenty of water and he should heal up just fine.” While speaking, his hands dug into the bag, searching the interior for a sheet of paper and he pulled it out, handing it to Cremia. She took the paper hesitantly, reading through the lines quickly.</p><p> </p><p>“I prescribed him painkillers. Give him two after every meal. That should be enough. If he is running a fever and it won’t go away within the following three days, call me again.” That done, the doctor closed his leather bag again and turned to face the three of them, bowing his head in a silent farewell. “You’ll receive my bill soon. Have a nice day.”</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you for your help, doctor.” Replying Green’s gratitude, the man smiled faintly and humble, turning on the spot and approaching the door, the ring of the bells announcing his leaving. Some of the tension from before seemed to fade away from Green’s chest and he felt lighter now, relieved to know that Blue was going to be okay. From the side, the paper that the doctor had given to Cremia, was shoved under his nose and he took it, giving the lady next to him a questioning frown. </p><p> </p><p>“You brought him here, so you’ll take the responsibility,” she said sternly, crossing her arms firmly in front of her chest. “Also, I’ll dock off the bill from your pay as well. Not to be mean, but I won’t throw my hard-earned savings away for a potential mafia member. You know, we need every rupee we can get to buy new furniture. I hope you understand that.”</p><p> </p><p>A long sigh left Green’s lips, nodding slightly in silent acknowledgment. Of course, he understood. He offered her the deal anyway, so he wasn’t in any position to draw back now. That meant that he would be pretty low on money the following month, but he gladly took the bitter pill knowing he had done the right thing.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything,” Green assured her with a confident smile, waving the prescription paper at her while casually moving over to the backrooms, completely forgetting about the food that still stood on the bar, waiting to be eaten. “I’ll be upstairs and check on our problem child. Call me if you need help with anything. I’ll be back down in a bit.”</p><p> </p><p>Exchanging another wordless nod, Green hurried up to the first floor. The door to Blue’s room stood open a small gap, the faint lights from the fireplace inside seeping through the cracks and slits in a comforting warm glow. Gently, he pushed the door open, his eyes quickly wandering to the only occupied bed and the pianist laid there, sleeping peacefully it seemed. His feet carried him further inside. The room was warm and cozy, the curtains drawn shut to ensure some privacy from curious eyes, filling him with a sense of homeliness and protection, which he hoped Blue felt as well, even in his semi-conscious state. Sure, the interior wasn’t necessarily aesthetically pleasing with the folksy furniture and worn-out wallpaper and carpet, but it was still better than most sleepovers out there.</p><p> </p><p>With silent steps Green approached the bed, giving the unmoving, broken figure a quick lookover. He appeared to be having an easier job breathing again, his chest covered in sewn cuts and bruises rising and falling evenly with his steady breaths. Without all the blood the blond looked much more human again, the white of his skin catching the oranges and reds from the fire, his hair a soft gold, some strands stained dark from dried blood. It was still a daunting sight to behold, as defaced as the man was even with the bandaids, stitches, and bandages. The sheets had suffered, too, giving a slight idea of how bad the damage was that was done to him, the pillow and bottom sheet smeared with red and dirt on multiple spots. Cremia wouldn’t be pleased about this but what could he do? It was just what wounds did but sheets could be cleaned and replaced, so this was his smallest concern at the moment. </p><p> </p><p>It didn’t look like the man would be waking up any time soon, so Green would use the opportunity to clean up the things the doctor had left on the nightstand and visit the local pharmacist to get the painkillers the doctor had prescribed, along with some other supplies that would become necessary over the following days. Hopefully, Blue had recovered enough until his return to clarify the one or the other question for him - and Cremia and her sister as well. </p><p> </p><p>-</p><p> </p><p>Evening set slowly, the sun starting to disappear behind the horizon, just barely touching the rim of the lake and tinting the sky in soft reds and oranges. Customers were sparse today, just a few fishermen coming in from their sails across the lake along with some other simple folks that enjoyed a few drinks and cigarettes after a long day of work. Cremia had sent him up to his room early, saying she could manage the bartending alone but also to assure that he kept an eye on their little <i>guest</i> and that the man wasn’t planning on doing anything underhanded. However, so far Blue had been sleeping through most of the day, the only sounds occasionally coming from the bed being the soft rustling of sheets and the one or the other deeper breath the man took upon shifting and turning, trying to get comfortable. Green had been watching over him for a while now, quietly, just getting up to either replace the cold compress on his forehead or put more wood on the fire, keeping the room softly alighted and well heated, so the other wouldn’t start shivering. Whatever fight he had run into, it took a toll on him and his body must be in desperate need of recovery sleep if he managed to stay unconscious for so long. Judging by the damage that remained, it only seemed natural.</p><p> </p><p><i>Poor guy…</i> Green thought, ears dropping in sympathy for the motionless blond, his hand reaching out to brush a wet, soaked strand out of his face, cautious to not touch any open cuts or swellings that might hurt him. However, the gentle action didn’t go unnoticed and the crumbled figure started stirring nervously, moving more than usual along small, pained sighs and groans, brows furrowing, lips quirking in displeasure under clenched teeth. Green watched on curiously, pulling his hand away and leaning himself over the men. Was he waking up?</p><p> </p><p>“Blue?” he asked, quietly, seeing if his voice managed to reach out to him. It did. The stirring became more irregular, the movements larger, a careful turn of his head, a bend of his leg, the rise and fall of his chest more distinct and defined, the sounds emitting from his throat louder, carrying more depth as a voice started to bleed into the barely audible complaints trying to fight their way out of his broken form. Then, his eyes opened, eyelids heavy and droopy, tired-looking. It was hard for him to keep them open like this, it seemed, but his vision appeared clear and sharp, less delusional than back in the side alleyway near the docks. He had an idea now what was going on, understood his surrounding, had a sense of room and orientation. There was a trace of confusion in the way he stared back at him but that was understandable. He had no idea where he was or how he got here most likely. Still, it was an improvement to before.</p><p> </p><p>“Where… am I?” the man asked, averting his gaze briefly to let it trail through the unknown room, idly, with a hint of curiosity, the flames from the fire glistening against his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“The Little Meadow. A small pub near the docks. Do you remember?” Green asked, secretly hoping he would recall something but nothing seemed to move in him at the mention of the pub’s name. Maybe some further hints would help his memory. “You have been here before, with Nayru’s band. You had a gig here back in spring, half a year ago.” Processing the newly acquired information, Blue looked back at him, sorting through his mind, the gears behind his skull getting back to work until, eventually, he began nodding his head, very subtle, controlled.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah… I remember,” came the delayed answer, undermined by a heavy swallow to moisten his parched throat. “Yes, it’s that small house in the east. The shore is only a few feet away… I used to walk down there to have my morning cigarette. There is a jetty, too, isn’t it?” Green smiled happily. The description was accurate. He hadn’t forgotten. “Shit… how long has it been? Feels like forev- ow!” Trailing off with a pained yelp, Blue’s face twisted in displeasure, a hand reaching up to touch his chest. Green was quick to interfere, stopping him from gracing any delicate wounds or bruises that might cause him more pain.</p><p> </p><p>“Careful,” he said, grabbing his arm and gently guiding it back down onto the mattress. “Better stay still. It’ll only get worse if you move.”</p><p> </p><p>“Right…” the other muttered, closing his eyes and trying to steady his breaths again, focusing on consoling the aches and throbs thundering through his fibers. “Right…“ Seemingly, he had a good understanding of his allover condition, heeding his advice blindly, not questioning it, and remained unmoving. Perhaps, his memory was still able to recall enough to tell what got him into this peculiar situation, judging by his calm demeanor and how little he did to resist him. The man sighed out, blistered lips parting slightly to release a thick puff of air. His eyes opened again, slowly, and he dipped his head hesitantly to the side, trying to get a better look at the male sitting next to him, eyeing him attentively.</p><p> </p><p>“You… did you help me out- back there?”</p><p> </p><p>He nodded his head at him. “Yes, I found you in a side alley near the docs. Looks like you got into a fight of some sort.”</p><p> </p><p>“I did… I did,” Blue affirmed, losing a spiteful hiss as the memories filled him, drawing a face of utter frustration and defeat onto his features. His head sank deeper into his pillow, expression blank, eyes flicking back and forth nervously as if the fight was replaying right before his inner eye. “Shit…” And apparently, he recalled more than he would have liked to. “Those bastards… they- they took everything from me… every single rupee…They just-!” A heavy jolt went through his upper body, his muscles clenching up from the shock of pain flashing through his entire apparatus, while a choked, wet noise raked over his tongue, voicing his suffering. Shushing the man, Green touched his naked shoulder gingerly, rubbing it comfortingly, waiting until the seizing ceased again.</p><p> </p><p>“Shhh, it’s alright. Relax,” he said quietly. “It’s okay. You are safe now. They won’t hurt you again.” With patience and a little bit more soothing mumbling, the man calmed down again.</p><p> </p><p>“Stupid Ingo… he- he tricked me! He put me onto those people. I didn’t do anything wrong. I was just defending myself...” Green looked up curiously, ears perking up.</p><p> </p><p>“What do you mean by that?”</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t have any business with them,” Blue vigorously denied, shaking his head along as much as his limited range of motion let him. “I was just doing my job… I had a gig in Ingo’s bar and he promised me a good fee. He paid me, all was good, and then… those men showed up and- I-I couldn’t-...” Before the weakened man could become even more stressed and distraught, Green shushed him once again, taking the cold compress from his forehead and giving it a rinse in some ice water before he very gently dapped it against his temples and sweaty neck, watching intently how he began to settle down once more.</p><p> </p><p>“I understand. You don’t need to explain more to me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ah…hah...” Green watched Blue pull in a shaky breath, how he focused on the sensation of the cool object touching his head, how the tension left his muscles. Even though the doctor had treated the majority of the damage that had been dealt to him, he was still a mess to behold, shivering, and shaking from the pain. It would take a while until he had recovered enough to be his usual self again.</p><p> </p><p>“We’ll talk another time. You should rest now,” Green said reassuringly. He had heard enough to tell that Blue was not the bad guy in this situation. Cremia and her sister were surely going to be relieved to hear that. “You can stay here for the time being until you’ve recovered enough. I’ll talk to Cremia about it. She is the lady, who owns the bar. I’m sure she won’t mind having you around for a while.”</p><p> </p><p>“But,” Blue was quick to object. “I can’t pay you. I have no money or anything. How am I supposed to-.” Green raised a hand, cutting the other off.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t worry about it. We’ll discuss this once the time is up. I’m sure we’ll find a solution for this but for now, just focus on getting back on your feet, okay?” The man shrank back, baffled, unsure what to say. He seemed… flattered, yes flattered indeed, to be treated with such kindness, and grateful, genuinely grateful. </p><p> </p><p>“Okay. Thank you.”</p><p> </p><p>Green nodded his head at him in silent consent, flashing an encouraging smile along with a gentle clap on his shoulder. Then, he got up, deciding to give Blue some privacy, and attempted to leave the room, but one step out the door, he heard the mattress shift and he turned, seeing the rugged man looking back at him, pushed halfway up onto his lower arms.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, I know you, right?” he pointed out, catching Green completely off guard. “Weren’t you… the guy, who followed me out into the back alley? You gave me this pretty good scotch and we talked for a little. That was you, right?”</p><p> </p><p><i>Oh…</i> He- he remembered him, unexpectedly so. Given his slightly reluctant attitude, he had assumed that Blue had forgotten, but no, he didn’t and after a while of internalizing this, he nodded back at the man, earning a crooked, cheeky smile in return.</p><p> </p><p>“Ha, what a way to see each other again after so long,” Blue huffed, jokingly almost, still pained but the levity to it was positively refreshing. “Nice to meet you again. Care to tell me your name?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Huge thanks goes out to <i>The_Aggresstable</i> for helping me out with the editing! I hope minor mistakes that are still in the final text are forgiven! :') As always, leave some love by smashing that kudos button and leaving a comment down below! Until the next chapter! :D</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. b minor</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I have returned, at last! Damn, it's been a while, which I deeply apologize for. Life has kept me on my toes for sure. A lot of stuff happened (including rather unpleasant things, unfortunately), which had kept this chapter's progress at a bare minimum, but I hope the length makes up for the long wait. So, without further ado, please enjoy! :D</p>
<p>Disclaimer: Trigger warning for graphic descriptions! If you feel uncomfortable about detailed descriptions of medical procedures, blood, and mild gore, please do not proceed!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A few days later, it had become something akin to normalcy that Blue was now staying with Green, Cremia, and her little sister in the Little Meadow. Cremia, thankfully, agreed to let the battered man stay after Green had confirmed that he was not a threat but rather a victim. His story had moved the chipper lady deeply and Green dared to say that he had never seen Cremia so sad and infuriated at the same time by the revelation that Ingo, the same man that had ruined her father’s life for good, was responsible for this disgraceful deed. Despite her remaining reluctance towards Blue, she showed great compassion and helped Green out whenever her full, busy schedule allowed it. Even though Romani was already familiar with the man, she proved to be rather shy and hadn’t gone near him ever since he had arrived here. She would hopefully get used to him eventually. After all, out of all of them living in this household, she had the easiest job making friends with everyone.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>So far, Blue’s recovery went on slowly, not much progress in sight yet, but the first few improvements showed through, small ones, baby steps in the right direction. He appeared more lively with each new day, smiling and joking around every time Green walked into his room and found him awake. He wasn’t really talkative nor conspicuously vocal but the few things he occasionally said gave the illusion that he appeared to be alright. Green wasn’t sure if this was just a facade to ease his concerns and cover up the actual truth, the stings of remorse speaking out of him for being a supposed burden or weigh-down. Certainly, he didn’t know the man well enough to judge that but Green could imagine that Blue was this kind of person, too proud, too stubborn to be honest in this situation. This assumption added to his slightly rugged appearance and rough attitude. Show no weakness, sensitivity, maintain that inviolability, this cool, untouchable shell. However, Green wasn’t one to judge too soon. Maybe he was doing better and this was his way of coping with his injuries and pain, just brushing it off with a smile, a joke, a peal of laughter. Truth be told, he enjoyed it, this levity reigning between them. It gave this all over depressing affair a much more positive feeling to it, like it wasn’t just about Blue being beaten up by the mafia but rather him being here with them now, watching him improve and growing closer together. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The day had started relatively uneventful. Cremia had left the bar early in the morning to visit her cousin Malon and buy some groceries afterward. Fall was nearing, the nights turning colder, longer, and for some weird reason, people started to develop a stronger craving for cognac. They had been running out quickly during yesterday’s shift, so Cremia had to refill the stock to avoid inconveniences. Meanwhile, Green stayed at the bar, cleaning, and polishing, making sure the counter and cabinets were in good condition. There was still a lot to do before the lunchtime customs would arrive. Cremia didn’t seem like she would show up any time soon and he still had to check on Blue, change the bandages, give him his medication. However, he couldn’t seem to get away from the bar, the pile of glassware that needed to be cleaned and polished not shrinking at all. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>A frustrated sigh left him, and he dropped his cloth on the counter in need of a little breather, his eyes listlessly wandering over the dripping wet glasses and pitchers. His hands felt sore, joints popping as he rolled his wrists and massaged his palms to release some stress. How did Cremia manage to do this every day at such a high speed? This task was so incredibly dull and draining. If he could just have some music at least, something to give this calm and unsettling atmosphere some character, a mood. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>His gaze wandered over to their old gramophone, which had long stopped playing music, however. The clockwork had gotten broken at some point, which was why it only served as decoration now. People usually preferred live music over gramophones and their rather poor sound quality, which was understandable but, at least, music could be enjoyed wherever at any given time. A smile snug on his lips, eyes wandering over to the piano on the stage. It was a beautiful piece of an instrument, very old but in great shape, smooth black coating giving the wooden surface a nice shine. I was probably worth enough to pay for a small house somewhere in the countryside. Many musicians had played on it before but for a strange reason most prominently of all of them was still Blue. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <i>Blue…</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Thinking of Blue, Green had intended to bring him water, didn’t he? Had he brought it up already? He couldn’t seem to remember. One gaze was enough however and he spotted the glass bottle still standing on the other edge of the counter, looking sad and abandoned. </p>
<p> </p>
<p><i>Din, damn it…</i> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Green groaned out in displeasure, scolding himself for his poor memory and inability of keeping his thoughts together. How long had it been since he headed down to the bar, trying to fetch some water? Probably too long. How insensitive of him, letting a sick man wait out on his drink. He should bring it to him right away, but there was still the big pile of glassware that needed to be dried and polished. If Cremia came back now and saw the mess here, she would get mad at him and accuse him of using Blue as an excuse to slack off. It wouldn’t be smart to leave his post under these circumstances, but there was still Romani, wasn’t there? She could do the job. It wasn’t too difficult to do after all. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Romani!” Walking over to the backdoor, Green called into the hallway, hoping for the girl’s head to pop out from any of the doors, the kitchen, or the green room, but she didn’t. Instead, there was a faint sound coming from above, tiny feet skittering down the stairs quickly, and, shortly after, she leaned herself over the banister, looking down at him with curious eyes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What’s the matter?” Green walked over and raised the bottle high above his head, so Romani could take it with ease without coming down. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Please be so kind and bring this to Blue,” he said. “I’m still busy at the bar.” Bringing his now empty hands up, he made a vague gesture, similar to how Cremia would make it, and gave the girl a little, impish wink. “Don’t want to make your sister angry after all.” A light, cheerful chuckle came back in return, and Romani mirrored his wink, equally perky, carefully pulling the bottle closer. However, her former positivity quickly vanished, replaced with timidity.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“But I don’t have to- help him drink or anything? I mean, I have no problem with that but- sis doesn’t want me to get too close to him and… I don’t- I don’t want to do anything where I have to-, you know.” Now, she was just getting in a fuddle, and, truthfully, it was quite adorable to watch the girl struggle with the idea of touching an adult, or man to be precise, which didn’t necessarily make it any easier. She was just shy, which was only natural for a girl of her age. Her reluctance was more than understandable. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Don’t worry about it. Blue can drink on his own. Just fill up his glass and leave him be.” Relieved, the smile returned to the girl’s lips, the discomfort perishing as if it had never been there before.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Should I help you with the polishing later?” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That would be nice.” That said, Romani lifted her skirt a little and hurtled up the stairs, telling him that she would be coming down soon to join him. Satisfied, Green returned to the bar, continuing where he had left off. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Time flew by fast, and before Green could take notice, the last glass was shiny and clean and went straight into the cabinet. The sink was empty, with no more dishes to take care of. However, despite the girl’s offer, she hadn’t come down to assist him after all. Something must have stopped her, and Green got suspicious. Since he had to go upstairs to look after Blue anyway, he would check on her as well, seeing what had kept her busy.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He barely made it one floor higher when the faint sounds of chattering reached his ears, their origin Blue’s room. A curious frown set on his face, his feet carefully moving him onwards, light feet, no sounds, assuring that he wasn’t noticed and that the noises wouldn’t cover the conversation. Green stopped right in front of the ajar door, taking a curious glimpse inside and examining the scene. To his surprise, Romani had seemingly decided to give their worry-child some company, sitting on the rim of the bed, shyly glancing at the man lying in it. Blue had his head propped up a little bit by a pile of pillows, so he could see the girl better without needing to fully sit up and put unnecessary strain on his chest. Even though his face was still disfigured by some cuts, swellings, and bruises that needed to fade and heal, he was a much more pleasant sight already than a few days prior. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>How peculiar. Hadn’t she been highly uncomfortable about even going near him only a couple of minutes ago? And now she was sitting there having a chat as if nothing was wrong? He decided to stay put and listen to their talk for a while. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“How do you do this?” Romani asked eagerly, kicking her legs into the air, gently swaying them over the edge of the bed. “My grandma used to play violin when I was still very young, and she couldn’t play without notes. And so many musicians that had come here all played with music sheets. How come you don’t need them?” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I suppose it’s something that comes with years and years of practice,” Blue replied with a nonchalant shrug, voice a little rough and husky as he had just woken up from a long sleep, a crooked, goofy-looking grin spreading across his lips. “Some pieces I know by heart but, most times, a simple melody is enough and I know how to do it.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’s so swell! You must be talented then.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ah, I wouldn’t say it like that,” Blue uttered quite modestly, appearing flattered nonetheless with the swift flick of his eyes to the side. “It’s my job. I practiced a lot to get there where I am now.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Still, not many can play the piano without reading a single note! It’s quite special!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“But I’m sure there are more out there who can do this.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I haven’t seen them yet, though.” A light chuckle came back in reaction, forced down for the sake of preventing pain and discomfort but wholeheartedly nonetheless.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Alright, point taken.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Romani grinned back at the injured with a wide, cheeky grin, giggling cheerfully before settling back and throwing a sad, concerned look at the man’s bandaged, left arm, giving it a soft poke with her finger. “Does it hurt a lot?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Huh?” Blue hadn’t even noticed that she had touched him. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Your arm,” she clarified, pointing at the limb instead of poking it this time. Following the direction of her finger, Blue then lifted his arm slowly, turning it once and twice, flexing, making a fist, and moving his fingers one by one to test his range of motion and pain tolerance before giving her a definite answer. The single movements looked dragging and very controlled. Not everything was properly healed inside yet.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s not too bad. Could be worse,” he explained, almost light-heartedly, but Green knew that he was most likely understating things. A bruised bone could be very painful to deal with, after all. “However, I can’t hold it like this for long. It puts a lot of stress on my wrist.” Romani nodded understandingly, reaching out and letting her fingers grace the palm of his hand softly, tracing the lines of the bandages in a morbid kind of curiosity. She lifted her gaze briefly, hopefulness in her eyes. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“But, you will be able to play the piano again, right?” Then, she stared back down, her finger running over a spot that must feel off to her, her forehead forming wrinkles as she tried to figure out what it could be. Green knew. Blue had a cut there, probably from trying to catch a knife in self-defense. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sure, I don’t see why not. Bones heal with some time,” Blue said quietly, bending his middle and index finger a little to tap them against the side of her hand. It took a while until Green had understood that he was trying to drum a rhythm. “Do you know what this is? Have a guess.” Romani watched his fingers move with full concentration, gingerly nodding her head along to the light taps, lips moving silently, trying to form a song. Eventually, her face lit up in excitement. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Bee’s Knees?” she guessed and Blue smiled proudly. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re good.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Will you play it for me when you get better?” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I can’t make promises, but I’ll keep it in mind.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Shortly after, Green heard the backdoor opening in the hallway below and was quick to assume that Cremia had made it back home. He was proven correct as he heard her calling for Romani to help her with the groceries. Satisfied with the answer Blue had given to her, the girl retreated from the man, excusing herself for the moment, and hurried out of the room, almost bumping into Green in the process. Blue watched the girl leave with a smile until his eyes caught him standing inside the door, following him all the way in as he entered. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Making friends, I see?” Green mused, walking over to the desk where he usually kept the bandaging and cleaning materials and collected everything he needed. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah…” he heard Blue say through a long sigh, grunting while trying to stretch without hurting himself. “She is cute. Wouldn’t want to talk to me first, but she softened up eventually and began to ask questions. She is the boss’s… sister? Daughter?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sister,” Green affirmed, putting all the materials that he needed in an empty washing bowl, and brought them over to the nightstand. “One of seven if I’m not mistaken.”</p>
<p>“My my… Surely never gets boring during family get-togethers,” Blue commented dryly, making Green snort with laughter. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Definitely not. Her family is huge. Always busy, always loud. We had the whole crowd assembled last Christmas, including aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, and it was a mess. Things were much calmer where I come from.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Which would be?” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Green stole a curious look from him, sighing out while chuckling sheepishly. This was new. Blue hadn’t been nearly as inquiring as now, but it was refreshing. He enjoyed the attention. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“North of Ranelle. My grandma raised me after my mom had died. She owns a small animal farm along with three of my aunts and uncles. I have no siblings but therefore five cousins, who could also be my brothers and sisters, to be honest. We are all very close and I only share good memories with them.” Thinking of his family made him feel somber immediately. Leaving them was one of the hardest things he had ever done, but he knew that his place wasn’t there. He needed to be somewhere else, somewhere that wasn’t the countryside. Sometimes he missed the calmer side of life, away from the masses of people, the overwhelming, loud cities, the overflowing bar every night. Green wondered if his horse Epona was still with them, good and healthy, but knowing his cousin Aryll, she would take good care of his girl. Life here just wasn’t quite the same, unstable, uncertain, but strangely exciting as well. It had its kind of thrill, which he needed, the sudden changes, that every day was different. He wouldn’t have this at his old home. Day in, day out, it would all be the same. It was a better life here. He was earning good money and could afford a decent life but that didn’t change the fact that he often missed his family - and he missed them badly. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s nice that you have such strong ties with your family.” Blue’s voice pushed through his thoughts, making him startle, pulling him out of his current rigidity. A tilt of his head and he was gazing down on the man who gave him a gentle, almost apologetic, smile, lightening the mood. Did he notice his sudden sadness? “I can’t relate. I was never particularly close to my parents. Things were- a little difficult, for multiple reasons, but I don’t want to pick on that now. I would be a long story to tell otherwise.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Will you tell me another time?” Blue flashed him a curious look in reaction, the hint of a playful, charming glint in his eyes. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Why yes,” he uttered, a sly grin bending his chapped lips. “But only over a glass of that neat scotch, you gave back then.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Green smiled, his chest feeling warm and fuzzy over the invitation. Blue was a very likable guy. He enjoyed his company, and, judging by the way he acted around him, the same counted for him as well.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I suppose I can arrange that.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Content with his answer, the man returned to his more quiet demeanor, letting Green tend to the things that needed to be done. Green only left the room once to fill the ceramic bowl in his hand with cold, clean water, before settling down in the chair next to Blue’s bedside and arranging all the tools on the nightstand for easier access and handling. Then, he slowly got to work. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m just going to change the bandaid on your neck. Try to hold still. It won’t take long.” A faint nod, undermind by a deep, throaty hum, came back in wordless acknowledgment. Green considered it safe to touch Blue and carefully ushered him closer to the edge of the bed, removing the extra pillow under his head, so the other laid flat on his back and he could get a good angle on the wound. With a gentle gesture of his hand, he signaled for Blue to tilt his head a little to his right, exposing the side of his neck. Then, with skillful fingers, he began peeling off the tape and removed the big white strip of cotton, the downside soaked in dried blood and yellow secretion as he gave it a closer inspection. A long, narrow gash stretched from the base of his neck halfway up in a circular curve, bending towards the back, growing wider in the center, and narrowing at the ends. The edges were smooth, clear liquid oozing from the reddish cut. It looked like an ordinary cut but what bothered Green a little was that slight discoloration in the upper section, the skin surrounding it appearing swollen, and he could have sworn he saw something of a pale yellowish color. He wasn’t very fond of medicine, but his gut-feeling told him that this shouldn’t be ordinary. The doctor had urged him to watch out for his temperature. Maybe this had something to do with it. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Say, do you feel any different than usual?” he asked, touching the man’s forehead for good measure and feeling his temperature. Even though Blue had been in a rather good mood and appeared fine all over, some precaution was never wrong.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Not really,” came the quick reply. “Other than the pain and discomfort that has always been there, not much has changed. Why? Is something wrong?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hmm.” His temperature felt normal, not overly hot or cold. To his misfortune, he wasn’t very well educated in treating wounds like this, nor judging whether a wound looked off or not, but since Blue didn’t seem to feel any different, maybe this was something normal and didn’t require further attention. He would clean the wound, as usual, and keep a good eye on it when he would change the bandaid tomorrow. “No, nothing is wrong. I just want to make sure you’re not nursing a fever.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ah, right.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Blue seemed satisfied with that explanation, but his eyes still bore something skeptical like he wasn’t buying his words full credibility. That quickly changed as Green reached for a washcloth and gently pressed it down on the cut, trying to clean it. The sudden friction forced a pained hiss over the man’s lips, but he tried to fight it down, enduring the procedure quietly. As soon as alcohol came into the mix, the quiet vanished, and Blue began squirming, gritting his teeth furiously and cursing vividly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh shit! Fuck, fuck, that stings! Ow!” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hold still!” Green demanded, pressing Blue’s head firmly into the pillow to stop him from moving too much, continuing to press the alcohol-soaked cotton ball against the wound. He hadn’t been this sensitive yesterday, had he? “You’ll only make it worse if you move.” The other listened and tried to comply, making it easier for both of them, and grunting his displeasure into the pillow instead of squirming. Green was sorry for having to put Blue through this, but it was necessary to make sure he was healing. “There, there. It’s okay. Almost done.” Placing the blood- and ichor-soaked cotton on a ceramic dish, he reached for a fresh, clean bandaid and pressed it on the cut, keeping it in place with some tape. “And finished!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Relieved, Blue collected a deep breath, rearranging his lying position, and preparing to fall back asleep, eyes half-lidded and heavy-looking as he tried to find the other’s gaze again. This had tired him out a lot. He had been planning to change the other bandages as well, but maybe it would be best to give Blue a little break for now. They could come back to the rest later. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Do you feel like eating something? Some bread with butter?” Green asked, receiving a faint head shake and a muffled sound that felt close to a no. “Do you need anything else?” Another head shake. “Alright then.” Preparing to clean up, Green gathered all the used items, clearing the nightstand, and placed the bottle of water and a glass on top instead, making sure to fill the glass before leaving for the next few hours. “Get some rest. I’ll be back soon.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Right…” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Smiling faintly, Green clapped on the man’s shoulder in sympathy and then quietly left the room, keeping the door open a crack in case Blue was calling out for him. It was a rocky way and all beginning was hard, but Green was certain that it would get better once the first week was over. Recovery needed time after all, especially with as many injuries as Blue was having.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>-</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The night was long, the endless trail of coming and leaving guests not ending before two in the morning. Cremia had sent the last people home before three and it took one more hour after cleaning, sweeping, and putting the chairs up until Green could finally find sleep in the comforting hug of his down bed. The coals of wood still glowed ruby-red in the fireplace when he entered his room, the air warm and dry against his face, the scent of burnt pine tickling his nose. He hadn’t even managed to pull off his pants and undershirt before his face hit the pillow, at last, inviting him to close his eyes and find some sweet, needed rest. It happened so quickly, Green couldn’t even remember when he had drifted off, lazily kicking off his shoes and peeling the socks from his feet with his face squished deeply into the feathers. At some point, the lights just went out and he found himself confused as he felt the blanket wrapped around himself, the fireplace burnt down with only that little faint red that was still lingering underneath the grey, black ashes.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The sleep didn’t stick to him for long as the noises of loud footsteps against the squeaky wooden floor began to sneak into his black, empty dream, quickly pulling him back to reality. His eyes opened, heavy and crusty from sleep, and he lifted his head a little while an annoyed frown set on his face, the rushing of a faucet suddenly touching his ears. Through the cracks in his door, he spotted the faint glows of candlelight through the blackness of the night, a menacing gloom peeking through the gaps and the keyhole. Shortly after, the water stopped, and, again, footsteps could be heard, fast, stompy, the floor responding aggressively with a creak whenever a heel dug onto it. If he hadn’t known better, Green would have guessed that either Romani or Cremia just had to use the bathroom, but he had lived here for a long enough time to tell the difference. The girls kept it quiet whenever they did that, in consideration for those that still slept. But now? Whoever was still out, they appeared to be in quite the rush. </p>
<p> </p>
<p><i>How late is it…?</i> Releasing an exhausted sigh, Green reached for his pocket watch on the nightstand, barely able to make out the small hands and digits through the bad lighting and his watering eyes, but he eventually managed to tell the time. <i>It’s… long past four… Why are they still up?</i> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>A part of him pondered whether he should just ignore the noises and go back to sleep, which was the slightly more tempting option, to say the least, or get up and look at what was going on outside. His body was quick to pull him right back down, the mattress stubbornly clinging to his limbs, the blanket gently pressing down on his tired, sleepy form, but the decision was taken from him as he began to hear the beginnings of a conversation, his ears perking up nervously to catch the muffled sounds through the door. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Go back to sleep, Mani. It’s nothing.” Cremia. She sounded kind of stressed. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Why are you up? Is something wrong? What are you doing with this?” There was Romani. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’s not your concern,” the woman lectured her through a quiet hiss, the floor squeaking under the shift of her weight as she ushered the girl back into her room. “It’s late. Get some sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“But-”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No buts.” Then, the door handle clattered as a door was pushed shut forcefully and Cremia moved on, down the hallway, past his door. Her bedroom was in the other direction. Was she aiming for Blue’s room? That proved to be enough to make Green’s suspicion grow, and he began to peel himself from the sheets, uncaring to put on his shoes, and marched straight for the door, brushing off the slight faintness washing down his neck which came with the sudden upright position. He pushed open the door carefully and peeped outside, seeing candlelight flood from Blue’s room. Quiet, unintelligible noises crept through the empty hallway in frightful, ghosty shivers. It was suffering, kind of ailing, alarming. A female voice mixed in, demanding, strict. Something wasn’t right. Not hesitating once, Green proceeded, directly heading for the light source on the end of the hallway. Before entering, he pushed the door open a little bit, eyes squinting at the sudden brightness, and glanced inside carefully, analyzing the situation. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He quickly spotted Cremia next to Blue’s bedside, dressed in her light-green nightgown with a thin, knitted cardigan covering her arms and shoulders, her tired form illuminated by the yellow light of the candle flame. Red, long, messy curls framed her face as she dug her hands into the ceramic bowl next to her, water splashing and dripping as she pulled out a cloth, wringing out the excess before seemingly trying to wipe the man’s face with it. Green swallowed, a sense of dread starting to set in his chest. He had a feeling about what was going on, and he hoped he was wrong about it. Hesitantly, he walked inside, quietly knocking at the door to let the woman know he was there. Turning briefly, she met his eyes, a shadow cast over them, gloom and unrest dwelling from her blue eyes. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Cremia, what’s wrong?” he asked in a whisper, approaching the bed with slow, controlled steps, his eyes darting past her to the bed behind and the person lying in it. “Why are you-?” Getting a better look at the man, Green skipped to a stop again, not needing to hear Cremia’s explanation on the matter. He could see very clearly what the problem was with Blue sprawled messily in the sheets, chest rising and sinking under labored breaths that sounded through quiet, suffering moans shaking the air. His skin shimmered from sweat, the look in his eyes distant and hollow, pupils flickering back and forth in disorientation. Sometimes, whenever a new sound arose, his ears began to shift with them, showing that he was still somewhat there in his hazy, delirious state. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He’s burning up,” Cremia explained quietly, continuing to soak more clothes in the washing bowl and earning back Green’s attention. “Romani heard him whimper and groan next door and was too scared to look for herself. She woke me up to go check on him.” Fever. The doctor had warned them for this to happen, but how? He was doing so well only a few hours ago, wasn’t he? Where did that fever come from all of a sudden? Was it the wound after all? The one that had looked slightly off? Green didn’t get the chance to think about it too closely as a bunch of wet linen was forced into his hands. “Help me wrap him up. We need to cool him down. Wrap a thick layer of them around his calves and put a towel on top to keep the sheets dry.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>After some internalization and a vigorous nod, Green got to work and did as she had told, sinking on a free spot on the bed. He pushed the blankets off Blue’s legs, his skin hot and clammy to the touch as he lifted each of them by the knee and carefully began wrapping the cloth around his slim calves. Cremia had left him for a brief moment, returning with a pot of drinking water and a small bowl to help the sick man drink. By the time Green finished, the woman made Blue drink with pressure, forcing the bowl to his mouth, pushing his lips open with her thumb as he wasn’t responding the way she had anticipated. Thankfully, Blue was still awake enough to understand her actions and swallowed the liquid greedily first, before coughing up and spitting as it went down the wrong pipe in his haste. But Cremia was merciless, barely giving Blue time to adjust and recover, and urged him on to drink more again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><i>This isn’t nice…</i> Not only did the lady’s harshness and insensitivity make him feel very uncomfortable while she was fussing over Blue, but it was also the realization that, despite his best efforts of preventing it from happening, he had still gotten sick. Things had finally started to look up for the pianist, and yet, here he was with another setback and the fever ruining every progress he had made so far. What would happen now? Would he get over it? Was it just a temporary state, or would it get even worse from here on? It didn’t make any sense. Blue had been doing fine! He had improved so much, healed so well, but that had only been an illusion, the calm before the infestation inside his body broke out and poisoned it. Green had been optimistic up until this evening that the musician would be okay again, slowly but surely recovering. Now, he was scared, the fear starting to seek habitat in his insides, weighing heavily on his heart. What if-</p>
<p> </p>
<p>What if Blue wouldn’t make it?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What do we do if it doesn’t get better?” Green asked carefully, rearranging the blanket and covering Blue’s legs again. Cremia stared back at him, some of her fierceness dripping off and being replaced with uncertainty. The bowl was pulled away from Blue, giving him a moment to breathe, each inhale taken through shaky lips, each exhale making his whole body shiver. Despite her usually unbreakable confidence and carefreeness, she looked oddly lost for words, and it made Green’s spirits drop even further.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I don’t know yet. I guess we’ll see if it ever comes to that.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>-</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Two days later after that evening, Green’s worst expectations started to become a bitter reality. Blue’s fever still hadn’t ceased, and his condition seemed to get worse and worse with every passing hour. He hadn’t left his side ever since, protectively watching over him, witnessing how much he fought against his sick body, how much he suffered. His skin had turned sickly white, translucent and thin like parchment paper, the bluish veins shining through underneath the blond, greasy bangs clinging to his face. Sweat kept running down his temples in long wet trails, no matter how often he would wipe them away. He shivered, he panted, each breath clipped and uneven, looking like it caused him great pain whenever his chest seemed to cripple as it rose to collect needed air. Talking to him was like talking to a deaf man. Most times, nothing came back, and whenever something intelligible tried to fight its way out of him, it didn’t make much sense as if he was somewhere else, in another place, trapped in an illusion his delirious mind made him see. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Green had never seen something equally bad, a fever this intense, this adamant, burning a human out to the very core until nothing but a lifeless, empty shell remained, eyes so hollow, holding no shine, no splendor. What was left of the once prideful, galant pianist that he had seen on stage, that he had followed back into the back alley where he had taken a smoke, how mysterious and almost untouchable he had seemed like nothing could ever bring him to his knees, made him lose his cool? Here he was and, if Green wasn’t trying to convince himself otherwise, he would think the man was dangerously close to the verge of dying. And there was nothing he could do about it. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It shouldn’t affect him this much. To him, Blue was merely a stranger. There was barely anything he knew about him, nothing that connected them, that could awake this feeling of closeness and compassion in him, that moved him to the degree that the thought of losing him terrified him. Green would lie if he said he didn’t care. He did care, and it hurt him to see the musician so beaten down, stripped from everything that made him the person that he had grown to be fascinated by. He didn’t want to lose him. Not like this. Definitely not like this. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Green sighed out heavily, casting his eyes away from the man, the cloth in his hand rolling slowly and sadly back into the washing bowl next to him with a small little splash. He had done nothing other than wiping the man’s face, neck, and chest, and replacing the wraps around his legs, whilst occasionally urging him to drink, which had gotten more and more difficult to do without Blue choking by accident. He passed out repeatedly whenever he or Cremia tried, or he simply was too far away already to notice what was happening to him. It was like he slowly started to self-destruct, the disease creeping under his skin and eating away at every little thing that could potentially keep him alive. A scary thought. Was there nothing Green could do for him? Nothing at all? He didn’t just want to sit here and slowly watch him die! He couldn’t! But… what could he do other than being there for him? He hated this, this helplessness, his inability to change anything, trying to fight an enemy that he couldn’t bring down physically. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“... Green… Green.” Suddenly, in his trail of thoughts, a quiet noise pushed through to him, and, as he followed the sound, he ended up looking at two dull, tired eyes, staring right through him in search of something, something that kept the man rooted to reality. Green drew in a startled breath, leaning over. Blue was trying to talk to him, wasn’t he? He was there! He said his name! He was sane! He was still there!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What’s wrong?” he asked softly, hoping to reach out to him. “Can you hear me? Do you need anything?” The look in his eyes didn’t change, frozen solid, distant looking. He didn’t gaze at him directly, not his face, not his body, more something that seemed to resemble Green in the man’s head. Somehow, he still knew that he was there, searching for him in the unknown, holding on to his voice in an attempt to break free, coming back to the living. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m… going to die, don’t I?” The words came unexpectedly, making Green swallow hard like he was trying to get down a rough-edged rock stuck in his throat, forcing the beginnings of tears to collect on the rim of his eyelids. Why? Why would Blue say that? He was still here with him, right here, alive! He couldn’t just- he wouldn’t just… give up like this, would he? “I’m not going to make it… right?” His tongue felt heavy in his mouth, and Green found himself unable to reply to the pianist’s words. He didn’t dare believe that this was supposed to be the end. This couldn’t be the end for him. There was still a chance. Three days. The doctor had said after three days. If he just held on long enough, he could still make it! </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Huh…” Blue hummed after a while of frightening, icy silence, his gaze shifting with the slight turn of his head, boring holes into the wooden ceiling, and Green wasn’t sure whether he truly knew what he was saying or if it was just another one of his hallucinations. “... great life that was. Unrewarding, always being the dirtbag entertaining the common folks and getting nothing in return other than some nice words and a breadline wage. I should’ve stayed with my father and done something useful with my life instead of… instead of… composing pretty tunes and being down on my uppers all the time.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Leaving Green to deal with his thoughts, the man’s last words faded to a whisper before his eyes fluttered shut, and he slipped back into unconsciousness, the fever sucking him out like a leech, bleeding him empty from his energy and only leaving enough to keep his lungs working, his sweaty, glistening chest rising and falling too slowly for comfort. Green felt himself shake at his words, his breath hitching as he had held it for a little too long. He was wrong. It was okay this way. Blue was good at what he did, and he brought the people joy and happiness with his music. That was worth more than all the recognition he could have gotten from his father. Green couldn’t say whether this would have been a better life for him or not, but he still believed that this life as a musician wasn’t a bad one, because it was a choice made by devotion, not someone’s expectations. That alone was admirable, and he could be proud of himself for coming this far. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He was saved once again from falling too deeply into his endless stream of thoughts and fears as Cremia entered the room, announcing herself with a soft knock on the door, a somber expression resting on her face. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey,” Green said, slightly puzzled, surprised to see the woman here around this time of the day. “Why are you up here? Don’t we have guests-?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I sent them home,” she was quick to intervene, resting her hand on the doorframe, her gaze wandering over to Blue’s still, resting form, her expression turning even more gloomy and sour. She wouldn’t admit it, but Blue’s sudden change had stricken her quite gravely, too. “We have a more urgent matter at the moment.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Cremia-?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I called the doctor.” Green was stunned for a second. Hadn’t she refused to call the doctor over again so soon after the last time? Yet, she still softened up after all. “I explained the situation to him. He said it’s very concerning, and he wants to look at everything for himself.” It was like a weight was lifted off his shoulders. That was good news, wonderful news indeed. Somebody would come to help Blue, someone that was more capable than them for sure. Maybe, not everything was lost now. “He’ll be there in an hour.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>-</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Will he be okay?” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>After the doctor had arranged his workspace and took a brief look at his patient with a judgemental shake of his head, he had sent Green and the rest out, asking them to close the door for privacy matters - and to keep the noises down, which he couldn’t quite make much sense out of. He decided to stay with Romani and Cremia for the time being, who had retreated to the young girl’s room only one door away. The atmosphere was tense and quite unsettling, and the nervous glance he exchanged with Romani’s older sister after the question had fallen didn’t help to ease any of the bad energies floating through the air. The prospect of losing Blue to a lousy infection was frightening, and neither of them wished for it to become true despite the short time they had truly gotten to know each other. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I think so,” Green answered, raising his hand and rubbing the girl’s back between the shoulder blades whilst trying to muster a convincing smile, despite the slight trace of doubt slipping into his words. “The doctor knows what to do. I’m sure he can help Blue.” <i>Hopefully…</i> Seeking some comfort from those words, Romani nodded with a hum, her red bangs falling onto her face as she dipped her head, gaze drawn to her shoes in dejection. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He looked so awful, as white as a linen sheet…” she uttered, voice dripping with worry. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so sick before. Not even Uncle Charlie looked like this when he got the flu, and he had died on the same evening...” Green swallowed hard, the mention of death making his guts twist in revulsion. He didn’t want to think about this possible outcome now, not now when things were still so uncertain. It seemed so likely, so near he could grasp it effortlessly. A few days ago, he wouldn’t have wasted a single thought on this, but now?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Let’s not talk about this, Mani,” Cremia then intervened, looping her arm around the girl’s shoulder and pulling her in for a half hug, which her sister replied sullenly, shoulders slouched, her face hiding into the woman’s chest. A heavy sigh left her as she reached up to caress Romani’s hair, her eyes hollow and unnervingly neutral while staring straight ahead at the wall, drilling holes into the wooden panels. “We’ll just wait and see what the doctor says, alright? No need to get all worked up already.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She was right. They didn’t know any better. It was best to wait for the doctor’s final assessment before jumping to false conclusions. He could still hope. This wasn’t the end, not yet anyway. Despite Blue’s rather ailing condition, he was alive, maybe just a shadow of himself, but alive, and that was enough to keep hoping for a better tomorrow. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Chin up. I’m sure he won’t leave so soon. He’s got some life left in there for sure.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>In fact, Blue still had so much life inside of him that the house suddenly started to get incredibly loud, scared, suffering screamed shaking the room from whatever procedure he was put under. Green’s head perked up in surprise and horror, wide eyes darting to the adjoining wall that separated Romani’s room from Blue’s where the sounds were the most intense. The floor vibrated under his feet, the furious squeaking of wood and metal fusing into the wet chortles of painful yelps of mercy as if the poor pianist was jolting and kicking around for his pitiful skin. He could hear the doctor getting loud, cursing bloody murder at the man to make him obedient but seemingly without much success. The yelling continued, getting louder and more terrifying by the second, and Green was close to jumping to his feet and running over to stop this tormenting, but Cremia was quicker and pulled him back down to the bed, telling him to stay out of it. Romani sat in between them, hunched over, eyes squinted shut, hands pressed to her ears to stop the noises from coming in, but she could still hear them and started crying in fear. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Green was fuming. This was not what he had intended when he wanted Blue to receive help. Of course, he didn’t know what the doctor was doing or how serious the allover damage was that it would require some kind of surgery. Goddesses preserve, he didn’t even want to think about what that might look like. Whatever was happening over there, he wished for it to be over soon. Blue had already suffered enough. He didn’t deserve more pain than he was already dealing with. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>-</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, if the lad can scream his bloody lungs out like this, there is still plenty of life left inside of him,” the doctor said as Green was ushered inside, cleaning his blood-smeared hands and arms with a clean cloth. Despite his best efforts, he found himself staring at the old man’s limbs in silent shock, the red climbing up his lower arms like veins, staining the edges of his rolled-up sleeves and a little bit in the front. He looked more like a butcher than anything else, and it left a very bitter taste inside Green’s mouth that he had let this man touch Blue, only the images of his vague imagination filling him in on what awful procedure he had to endure. Green didn’t dare to raise his head yet and look at what was still left of the haggard pianist if the smell wasn’t already an indicator that it might not be much. Never had he smelled such a stinging scent of blood and raw, wasting meat before. Holding back his gagging urges was nearly impossible.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He is quite stubborn, clinging to life like a tick,” the doctor continued, taking the cloth and a small cotton package of red and yellow pus dripping linen, from which the mere sight alone already made his stomach church uncomfortably, and threw them into the fire to burn. Green’s gaze lingered there for a moment, watching the material wilt and crackle in the orange light, the edges turning to black crisps of coal, the core fueling the fire’s glow, letting it rise with yellow spears piercing up into the chimney. “I had a hard time stopping him from moving and kicking around.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Eventually, he urged himself and lost a glimpse of the bed, taking in the picture with a heavy rock resting on his chest. There was Blue, hands tied up to the headboard with ropes, legs to the end of the bed, bandages shredded, ankles and wrists rosy and burnt from tearing at them whilst struggling against the infusions of pain done to his body. He had been gagged, the fabric almost bitten in two and soaked in spit, now just loosely hanging between his half-sealed lips. The sheets were a mess, half of his pillow, the blanket, and the mattress covered in blood, forming a halo around his shoulder and neck that had now been covered with a heavy layer of wound dresses. He should see Blue in this bed, the same feverish, suffering man he had seen only half an hour ago, but all he saw was a broken figure, exhausted, twitching and shaking like a leaf as he rode the afterglows of whatever awful surgery he just went through, drawing whiny breaths between quiet, ailing moans. Green was petrified, unable to tear his eyes away from the picture. This… was not what he had intended. He had never wanted the man to suffer like this.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I cut most of the infested tissue off and rinsed the wound with iodine. It will take a while until it fully heals, but his fever should go away. He might not exactly look like it, but he’ll be fine now. I’m certain he’ll get over it.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Finally, after being rooted to the spot he was standing on from the shock of seeing the pitiful pianist the way he was now, Green skipped into motion, lowering himself to Blue’s side. How did the man not bother removing the ropes and the gag after he was done? Leaving him like this, so humiliated, so broken? Had he no compassion? Green couldn’t take it, this bareness, so he freed the man’s limbs, carefully detangling the knots and bringing Blue’s arms back into a position that seemed more comfortable, avoiding to touch the fleshy burns. Then, he pulled the gag from his mouth, startling as Blue seemed to heave a long-needed breath with the cloth finally being removed, spit running down his chin in long, shiny trails. A shiver went through his body, sharing the anguish the pianist was feeling, the way he so desperately gasped for air making his own windpipe feel strangely cramped and tight.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s okay,” Green whispered soothingly, pulling his handkerchief out and wiping him clean, only noticing then how wet his cheeks were, not from sweat, as he had originally thought, but from tears. The whole pillow underneath his head was soaked, a faint puddle printed into the fabric. His side bangs stopped most of the liquid from running down, now clinging nastily to his ears. “It’s over. You’ll be okay, you’ll be okay…” His bloodshot eyes opened at his words, dazed still, but frighteningly sane as the pain had forcefully knocked all his senses back into place. Green swallowed, feeling oddly lost in the other’s stare. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“... water…” he pleaded, voice thinner than air, but Green understood and jumped up, fetching his drinking bowl and lifting the man’s head carefully to help him drink. Blue drank greedily like he hadn’t drunk a single drop of water in ages, nothing spilling or coming to waste, and Green could barely keep track of how fast the bowl was emptied before the man asked for more. That was good, that was very good! That was an improvement already and a faint smile was cast down at the pianist, encouraging him, happy to see the slightest bit of progress. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>From the side of his vision, he watched the doctor approach them again, posture stern and raised, seeking his attention. “I’m done here,” he announced, tugging his sleeves back down and pulling his coat on. “He’ll be in pain for some time, but with enough rest, it should be manageable. If my treatment was successful, it should show the effect the next day. Make sure he drinks and eats plenty. The wound will continue to bleed for a while.” Walking over to his bag, the old man pulled out a brown bottle with liquid and a small jar with a yellow, sticky looking paste. “Change the bandages every two hours today and tomorrow. When the bleeding stops, rinse the wound as usual and put a few drops of iodine on the wound dress. This should prevent a new infection.” With a vague gesture, he placed the brown iodine bottle on the nightstand, lifting the jar with the paste afterward for demonstration. “This ointment contains chamomile. Use it to treat the rope burns on his ankles. Understood?” Green nodded firmly before the jar joined the iodine bottle on the nightstand, and the doctor turned to pack his bag. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Blue gave a quiet noise with the sudden neglect, the shakes along his limbs intensifying again, his breaths picking up speed as if he was reliving the last hour again in a flash, but Green quickly calmed him down, reaching out and gently brushing his temple with his knuckles, and watching the strained, suffering frown disappear just as fast as it had shown. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s okay, Blue. It’s okay. You were very brave,” he whispered, and it seemed that Blue tried to drink in some confidence from those very words, furiously consoling his breath to become more even, more peaceful. “You’re doing good. You’ll be fine.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The doctor then spoke his goodbyes, halfway out the door with his gloved hand lifted for a wave. “You’ll receive my bill soon.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Thank you,” Green said, earnest, despite the scene of horror he had to witness. “For everything.” The doctor respectively nodded his head, and took his leave at last, just for Cremia to now enter the scene. She could barely contain herself, a shocked gasp escaping her with a hand raised to touch her chest. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hylia preserve us! What happened here…” she spoke speechless, mouth agape, and when Romani tried peeking in to catch a glimpse, she furiously shooed her away, which was probably for the best. A young girl like her shouldn’t be seeing this. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I think,” Green mustered under a pained look. “-we might need new sheets. And it wouldn’t hurt to wash the poor guy. He had a pretty rough day.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>---</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Big shout-out goes to my lovely friend <i>The_Agresstable</i> aka <i>Atinybitweird</i> for the editing! It is very much appreciated! Thank you so much for your help!<br/>This quirky, little fellow right here would very much appreciate it if you could smash that kudos button and leave a comment down below! Let me know what you thought of this chapter. Until next time! Stay safe! &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Feel free to leave some love by smashing that kudos button and share your thoughts in the comments down below! This chapter didn't go through an additional editing, so pointing out bigger mistakes and advice is highly appreciated! Thanks for reading! :D</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>